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My refrigerator holds my life on its outside skin, though not as much as it once did, special pieces still remain, if not on the door, in my mind.

Silly pictures grace the face
The appliance in the kitchen
A board of the younger days
It is hard to be an adult I cry

For the door is closed to lies
In the study of life all I know
Is written in the cells of mind
Separating winners and losers

Will the day be a foe or friend
Messages are on steel wall
That shows hands and trees
A house in the glen with a fence

I have stopped and spied a dream
Proud of the fears that I have traded
It is so long to remind me of someplace
I wanted to find and a place I have yet to go

Burning scene lies before me as I see
The spreading of the sun on the floor
Watching rays blend to seams left
Patchwork quilt of places I have been

Learning that yesterday was worth trying
Contentment fills me as I absorb the warmth
How or why is not important on the end
His picture hand fits like a glove in mine

So small the crevice so great the flood
As the world let’s me open old doors
Through sunlight and pictures on a door
I walk to the love of being alone in a group