his hand was as cold
as the shining doorknob
throbbing gold and locked
in her memory
keys and cords
kept choking
the copper pipes
in her old home
so barefoot she walked
the stone path
to the doorbell
rusted raspy
corroded happiness
dusted her fingertips
and attic air caked her lips
as she reached
for his hand
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Betty
Gave me goosebumps, but in a pleasant way. Well-crafted poem!
jacsprat
Thanks, the first stanza came really quickly, but I couldn’t figure out the rest so I just traveled barefoot down the stone path and waited to see where I would end up. 🙂
Monica
a hand as cold and locked as a doorknob – and a heart?
jacsprat
maybe somewhere in the attic smelling strongly of mothballs 🙂
ramaink
Beautiful! Loved the last 5 lines!!
jacsprat
Thanks, I think those were my favorite too!
Caddo Veil
Oh, this is SO Good! I recognize the “place”, as I’ve been there & will no doubt go there again. Thank you.
jacsprat
Glad to meet a fellow traveler!