The Garden Gate

By: Olivia DB

The gate creaks when I touch it

Iron teeth remembering rust

Beyond, a field waits

Wildflowers bending in the wind

Their colors too bright, too tender

I linger at the threshold

Palms scarred from thorns that

I once mistook for blossoms

The soil still carries echoes

Of storms that split the roots,

Lightning carving silence into the sky

Now every petal feels dangerous,

Every fragrance, a trap

I watch the meadow sway

A chorus of invitations

Yet my feet remain on the heavy stone

Perhaps one day

I’ll step through again

But tonight

I keep the gates closed

Listening to the flowers sing

From the distance