Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Moniza Alvi

Doors

Doors

Doors

I observed that her knuckles were raw
with the effort of knocking on doors.

And if they opened she’d have difficulty
passing through – the awkwardness

of easing in with her world intact.
More than once I implored her to give up.

But I admired my wife, in a way –
the single-mindedness, her fierce pursuit.

She worked attentively, whenever she could,
at her listening skills, honing them

by day and night
on the creaking of a far-off door.
Close

Doors

I observed that her knuckles were raw
with the effort of knocking on doors.

And if they opened she’d have difficulty
passing through – the awkwardness

of easing in with her world intact.
More than once I implored her to give up.

But I admired my wife, in a way –
the single-mindedness, her fierce pursuit.

She worked attentively, whenever she could,
at her listening skills, honing them

by day and night
on the creaking of a far-off door.

Doors

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère