Poem February 5, 1977 Issue

DOOR IN THE MARKETPLACE

Joy Dell

A Reading Room door
stands open
in the marketplace.
Pass through it
and marketplace disappears,
only to reappear
a better place.

To walk through the door takes eons
or moments.
You cannot be pushed through,
will not be persuaded.
Yet a door stands open
in the marketplace
where multitudes throng,
where aromas and colors vie for attention
to the sound of chords and discords.
Pass through that door
and the marketplace disappears,
then reappears—
better.

Joy Dell

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