Mi portóncito
My little gate that swings me across the same arc across the tile patio floor;
the cold metal gray bars pressed to my face, hanging on to
Mi portóncito- the one taking me home
takes me to all the places and people that I’ve known and loved
Seen Come and Go
Through the in-between-bars I can see the familiar creaky swings fly high
the same swings that brought me so close to touching the leaves, las hojas to write my story, with my bare feet
Flip-flops tossed aside, reaching, stretching towards this little piece of freedom
When it opens, my Portón opens the world to me, and takes me home
Secure, strong, forgotten
Taken for granted
Mi portóncito
Posted in response to the challenge Doorways.
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