Leave the Door Open
When the afternoon leaves an
emptiness; when the sunlight
creeps behind the naked ash
and hickory, leave the door open.
When I lay the book across my
chest; when the dog senses my
weariness, leave the door open.
I want to hear you sing to
yourself. I want to hear you say
words like “baking soda”
or “I think it’s time for a beer.”
I don’t want that utter silence
that amplifies my every breath.
If you want me to stay here
until I am needed elsewhere,
until you need to be held,
leave the door open.
I want to slumber like a
child amidst the roaring
cacophony of vacuum
cleaners and egg beaters.
Don’t enshroud me in this
room where nothing else
lives, where I cannot hear
the calm shuffling of life’s
everyday coming and going.
Come back to me when
something needs to be fixed,
when you sense that I need
to be held; until then
leave the door open.
• • •
The Last Mountain
Years ago
I left a world of acquiescence
and government paradigms.
I built a home on a small
mountain. Friends and
family gave me things:
tools to help me tinker and
books about little known trails.
My brother gave me a hammock.
I can see it from the kitchen
window, and I keep a clean
path to where it stretches
in the shade beside indigenous
ferns. I turn away as it beckons.
When samaras rain down, I
pluck them from the taut ropes
and I walk off. I painted a
park bench bright white and it
sits on fieldstone between two
flowering planters. But it is
little more than periphery; if
I were to heed the invitation,
I would become a vagrant
just waiting for the winter to
claim another victim. Let
the children swing in the shade;
young lovers trade kisses on a
bench serving them well.
• • •
William A. Greenfield is a writer of poetry, a part time youth advocate worker, a fairly good poker player, and a fairly poor golfer. He resides in Liberty, NY with his wife, son, and a dog; always a dog. His poems have appeared in dozens of literary journals, including The Westchester Review, Carve Magazine, Tar River Poetry, and many others. In 2012, he won Storyteller Magazine’s People’s Choice award. He was a finalist in The New Guard Literary Review’s 2016 Knightville Poetry Contest and his work recently received honorable mention in The Common Ground Review’s Poetry Contest. His chapbook, Momma’s Boy Gone Bad, was published in February 2017 by Finishing Line Press.