One door to enter Mother’s house...

One door to enter Mother’s house

And yet she has marked it with an X

Even with music you cannot enter here again

To be overcome by the green noises of fizzing copper wires,

The mold bearding an orange, snow sintering

in May’s shadow between the roofs, the TV whispering to the dawn.

The door is locked.

You can still see her mumu hanging off the hook.