Invitation

The door is to be painted red,

So passersby know they are welcome inside.

Over tea the story of where they’ve gone, where they’ve been led.

The door is to be painted. Red

From anger, blue with grief, several shades of weary biped.

With strangers I have wept, then laughed until we cried.

The door is to be painted red,

So passersby know they are welcome inside.