The Magic Between

Rusted, barely noticed, pitted
yet strong,
the hinge is the secret,
the magic between
a door
and a wall
the thing that prevents one
from becoming
the other.

About this poem

In my prayers this morning I found myself praying to be a hinge. I had no idea where that phrase came from. Then I perused some pictures from yesterday and there it was, the picture of a hinge, and I knew.

It’s a pretty good prayer, I think.

Tom