There were just a few things
I wanted to say, but never
had the nerve.
The expected explosions and all.
Now, with my obsessions filling
the rearview mirror,
and stalled as I am
here at the top of the horizon,
I just have to ask.
How many times have you
experienced that slamming door?
How many times was it in front of
or behind you? Do you keep a score?
Not that this is a game
someone wins if one number
It’s just that I’ve had
more in my face and with this last
it feels like
Here’s a free-write poem I dashed off in response to that same prompt from Angela Goff (see below) from which my mini-story That Face in the Dark was written. Turns out it’s one of my old 100-worders. No idea from where it came. Just glad it did.