By Mike Smolarek

When I opened the door in front of me

there was another door.

The second door was bigger than the first,

wooden, too, and stained a dark red.

But there was no handle on it

to let me in.

I knocked on the door

to see if someone would answer

but fingers tapping on wood,

was all I heard.

Now the door slowly creaked open,

and a sliver of light, yellow light,

shined though.

My eyes squinted

the door opening more and more

the light shining brighter and brighter.

What was behind the light behind

this door that opened

when I knocked?

Who was there

waiting for my knock?

I stepped into the light,

my hands shielding my eyes

but I still could not see what was

beyond the yellow light.

I edged a little closer, but this

time the door closed, the

light was gone, and

I was standing in front of

a dark red door.

What was behind that

door must not be for me.