I like draughts

The Door
Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.

Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging.
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.

Go and open the door.
If there’s a fog
it will clear.

Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
the darkness ticking,
even if there’s only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.

At least
there’ll be
a draught. Poem by Miroslav Holub

A small confession. It has been raining non stop today, the undergrowth is encroaching and I haven't been out. You could read between the lines if you wanted to. Thanks to Marlieske for reinvigorating Derelict Sunday.