Poetry Archives

I pass a lighted window
 And a closed door—
And I am not troubled
 Any more.

Though the road is murky,
 I am not afraid,
For a shadow passes
 On the lighted shade.

Once I knew the sesame
 To the closed door;
Now I shall not enter
 Any more;

Nor will people passing
 By the lit place,
See our shadows marry
 In a gray embrace.

Strange a passing shadow
 Has a long spell!
What can matter, knowing
 She does well?

How can life annoy me
 Any more?
Life:  a lighted window
 And a closed door.