doors

by Margaret Tsuda

Image: Randy Calderone
Image: Randy Calderone

My eyes are
not windows through which
I peep at
hurrying crowds and
birds and things.

My eyes
are doors
through which I run
run
to embrace the
new day and
hail each passerby as
        “friend.”

This poem appeared in the Christian Science Monitor on March 12, 1971, and in Tsuda’s collection Cry love aloud.

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