The Echo Through The Grain

There's the door

I can touch

its surface

Feel the thick

sturdiness

of the grain

I feel

But there's no knob

to turn

or twist

Just a seam

around the edges

too thin

for prying

A small

single keyhole

offers a glimpse

of what lies

on the other side

I peer

with one 

squinting eye

as I rest

one knee

on the rocks

beneath my feet

Hands shaking

and sweaty

I rest them
against the door

for balance

Place my ear

to the wood

and listen

to the beat

of my own heart

echoing

through the grain

-January 2016