<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=474094" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Secret Door</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Mystery </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now? <br> In my mother’s flat there were three doors, the first door, <br>with an old fashion copper handle, often slammed in anger. <br>The second door into mother’s bed room was never closed, <br>but covered with a dark curtain. A small flat I slept on a sofa<br>in the living room. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was a third door, from her bedroom into the kitchen. <br>Sometimes when mother was out, I tried to open it but it was <br>always locked. There were nights when I wasn’t sure if awake <br>or not, the locked door opened as a sigh of ancient dreams. <br>Dawn, I heard the faint sound again, but I was too terrified to <br>know the truth of what I wasn’t sure of </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Morning, mother got up boiled water poured it into a bowl so <br>I could wash my face. Breakfast, slices of yesterday’s loaf with <br>strawberry jam and milky coffee. I wanted to know of the sighs <br>in the night, but sensed it was forbidden to ask.<br>Time has many doors some will be forever locked, so I ask? <br>Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oskar+Hansen">Oskar Hansen</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=474094" data-title="The Secret Door de Oskar Hansen" data-description="The Mystery Nadia, gentle zephyr of remembrance, where are you now? In my mother’s flat there were three doors, the first door, with an old fashion copper handle, often slammed in anger. The second door into mother’s bed room was never c..."></div> </div> </div>

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