I long for the sound of an old wooden screen door slamming oak frame, wire mesh heavy, with a new spring so the initial slam triggers recoil – residual wood WHAP! Thump! clunk. Nothing to stop an old wooden screen door save gravity those doors were rapt percussion a backbeat to youthful adventure The one at grandma and grandpa’s cabin portal to the lakeshore down the hill or the heavier-framed version with Coke-sign bumper jingling bell – the front door of Larson’s corner store where you always got a double-dip slam when arriving to return an empty for deposit again upon leaving with excitement and cold, full bottle of Nesbitt’s Strawberry I long for the sound of an old wooden screen door slamming oak frame, wire mesh heavy, with a new spring like the ones I was told as a kid to never slam but that could never contain me then or my fond recollection now I’ll forever let that door slam but I’ll never let it close
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021
Ponderable polemics, poetic 
