A Key for Every Lock

Presented with a multiverse
Of choices, the woman
Closes her eyes and dreams
Of a future that lies behind
One—or all—the locks
Lining the painted wall
She dangles a key (to one—
Or all—the locks) from her
Ear and feels the heavy
Drag of it, the tickle
As it brushes her neck
She hums a song of motion
And reaches for
One—and all—the locks
The key is suddenly in her
Hand leaving only a hoop
Curved through her ear
The key murmurs, “If it
Can be chosen, it will be”
So she reaches for the
Lock most appealing in
The moment, knowing
Some other her may—will—
Choose differently
The key blows a kiss
Then resettles on the hoop
Hanging from her ear
As a new path diverges
And she makes her way
To the next wall in
A world of next walls

—Gerri Leen