Green door

Me my door

Durdle Door? You can keep your Durdle. This insignificant Dorset door has all the excitement without the fame.

Three or four times a year, I like to travel the short distance from my home and come alone to stare at one side of the green door.

This was an entry to a pastoral past. They who opened and closed this door are crystal dust. The trodden green crush of them is bedded in the pigment which flakes with every season’s turn.

Behind this green un-Durdle Door is nothing. Perhaps scratched up parts of dry mouse nest. Maybe remnants of Red Robin and his song.

This is my side of the green door. It is a standing ovation to my blasted green age

Love’s presence EveryNow

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