Not So Dead Ends
It wasn’t the first dead end doorway I had entered,
the first wrong turn, thinking I was on my way
to somewhere, only to find walls all around.
It wasn’t the last.
So then, one of many. So many, you might think
I make a habit it, wandering aimlessly
into confined spaces, where the only way out
is the way you came in.
Maybe so. Not on purpose, but with a tendency
to curiosity, wondering what is behind the next door,
particularly the beautiful or forbidden ones.
I cannot call it a bad habit. I have seen too many
dazzeling doors and archways, each with a local color
so few get to see, save the owners, and the wanderers.
About this poem
I do have that tendency, to wander into places that if are not exactly forbidden, are not encouraged. Rarely have I been sorry.
The picture was taken in Rome.
“Abandon All hope…lessness”?
I like it!