The Knock on the Door

Old Door — Gozo — photo by author

100 degrees in the land of ice and snow
Polar bear’s got nowhere to go
All that was perma, about to be lost

And the world keeps on burning
while gangster magicians play peek-a-boo
now you see it now you don’t.
They’re all betting they’ll be long gone while all the rest of us,
eyes glued to where the lady was, play the game;
Behind Door Number One.
Or was it Three?



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benjamin weinberg

Writer, walker, poet, educator. Commercial fisherman, builder, donut maker, organic grower. Boston, U. City, Maine, South Africa, Madrid.