Art Nouveau door in Paris
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HESITATIONS OUTSIDE THE DOOR
By Margaret Atwood
I'm telling the wrong lies,
they are not even useful.
The right lies would at least
be keys, they would open the door.
The door is closed; the chairs,
the tables, the steel bowl, myself
shaping bread in the kitchen, wait
outside it.
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Rain, rain and more rain...and a little less pain... It's been raining for months, it seems. My prayers go out to the people in Texas who've experienced such loss from recent flooding. I can deal with the giant mosquitoes, the fleas, the high grass, the lushness. It's all a door---an exit or an entry to what's coming next. Bring it on. xo
