“Keys,” A Poem by Ahmad Almallah

I’ve been thinking of keys— clearly:

the hand holding them close to the lock— nothing turning turning

just a snapshot, reflections, fingers reaching for the thing in the mirror and not the thing

and that day when I couldn’t open up: and the door was just a door

not a barrier

it was  locked and I was  cold, tired, and _________________________out:

my fingers freeing and freezing but caught

and I couldn’t hold or find— my _____way I wondered about what happened to the dot dot dot

in poetry

_____why doesn’t anyone like them anymore and what’s wrong with the cut and incomplete

____________________________

Excerpted from Border Wisdom by Ahmad Almallah. Published with permission from Winter Editions. Copyright © 2023 by Ahmad Almallah.