The Keyhole

Stacked in the corner of our old barn with chipped paint rested some old door.

Who’s it was no one knew, and within the lock; A skeleton key stood.

I leaned it up to look behind, and wondered what else I might find,

but to my dismay nothing was there but a stack of hay.


We finished our work and turned to leave
and to my amazement a knocking came.

This time as I examined the door,
the skeleton key fell to the floor.

A timid voice began to speak, and to my surprise that voice was me.

“Who’s there,” I said so soft.

“Open the door and you can find out.”

A memory sprang to life. A memory where I was eight or nine.

A happy hand picked up the key and once in my pocket I turned to leave.

Reviews

[William Michael Reeves]

Too cool! Asking only to be answered by yourself who is behind the door. I feel like this is set up for a sequel. An excellent little story with interesting structure that helps emphasize the mystery that creeps into it.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you and yes I might have to expand upon this.

[M. J. Smith]

Must have been the caterpillar in Alice's garden. Just don't eat the mushroom!
Oh, the innocence of youth. Days good be to swiftly. A wonderful poem, Miss Cherrie.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you :) I wanted it to have a child like ring to it.