Poem: Through The Closet

Through The Closet

We lived once
in an apartment
with a long closet
that opened on each
end, a narrow hall
in which our shirts
and pants and coats
all hung.  I was little
enough to want only
to play in it, to imagine
passing through
a magical portal
from one world to another.
I knew the power
of strange doors
even then.  My mother
only saw the trouble
of rehanging
all our garments
in that tight space.