The Doorway

House of life has hosted me well,
but I dare not overstay;
      I’m off to someplace, farewell! Good day!
As I stride through the doorway,
memories beckon my face behind;
      You wish to stay? Well, if you’re so inclined!
and seized am I upon the step,
light, yet like a coffin bound;
      Good grief! I shriek – merely a whisper of sound.
Tied now with regrets wound tight,
Life to the left,
      rest to the right;
The line I thread is oh-so-thin,
Autumn draft whistles through my skin.