Screen Door

The mother of pearl
Screen door is pushed
Open and creeks from
The rusted hinges grinding.

The screen bends out,
To support the weight
Of the opening hand,
All grainy and wired.

The door slams behind
Whoever just left from
Wherever and bounces
Back from the frame hard.

The metallic thuds and bumps
Fill the air on either side
Of the door and air passes
Through the graded screen.

Eventually it stops bouncing
And the thin door is silent.
The black metal handle waits
To be used, but everyone

Always pushes on the screen.