Death’s Doorstep

 

“Door to River”  by Willem de Kooning

 

 

what does it look like
will I know when I’m near
something marbled and sooty
worn saddle of petrified wood
or of cold quarried granite
that’s older than time
is it braced with black
hellfired ironwork rails
or dressed with white flowers
in pots of cerulean blue
which design did the
grim ancient architect
choose for his door
does it blazon my name
bear a lock or stand open the
moment I make
my unwary approach

just a thought
might I slyly avoid
ever stepping too close
being pulled by the hands
reaching out from inside
if I stay where I am
right here in my chair
ever motionless
never again to walk out and about
among perils and pastimes
of life in the living
perhaps this is how I should plan
to cheat death
of my worthwhile
permanent company

 

 

From my book Human Waters