An Automatic Door

He jumps on and off the patch
in front of the door.
And for a while,
the door leads nowhere:
it's a point
of enjoyment
for no other reason
than being what it is.

What bothers me though
is that I cannot help
but search for such a door
to take me back
to this unfettered state.

Tristan Moss

If you have any comments on this poem, Tristan Moss would be pleased to hear from you.