A Door Ajar

On the nursery floor
above our heads
Where a kite caught fire
on Eiffel Tower

And with every
gust of cotton wind
The graveyard thieves
and Jujubes were
jumping folds,
And stealing
the chambered flowers

Life is the open door; come in
It beckons a ruleless youth;
A brininess in eternal sands that scour
For one who yearns for more,
and less one who keeps the score
A door ajar – that closes forever