I can’t thank you enough, my savior on hinges,
for being a cedar green wall
with a fool’s gold doorknob and an autumn leaf wreath.
You watch my life pass through you.

You’ve taken a beating.
Dents and dings in this sturdy oak shield
from furious fists that should have bruised my body.
But you can be repainted.

You’ve spit out the evil and have swallowed the holy.
A blood-thirsty dragon waited at my doorstep,
clawing at your back, kicking, pounding,
as the sound of your cries echo throughout my house
with the chime of an old, rusted church bell.
Why must you absorb my punishment?

I watch my father breathe fire upon you.

I can’t thank you enough, my savior on hinges,
for being a cedar green wall
with a fool’s gold doorknob and an autumn leaf wreath
and shredded feather wings from the battles you’ve endured.

My front door, my guardian angel, I thank you.