Leotta front door
Stepping Through My Doorway
by Joan Leotta

It has become my way into a world
of uncertainties, yet through its glass,
yellow sunshine fills the hall each day.
In early morning,
my west-facing door,
once a month,
opens to a silver stream
full, round, silver moon
plays with treetops
before daylight takes the stage.

On those early mornings
before sun rises, I step out
filling my lungs with
elixir of moonlight
so I can breathe
out dreams
all my waking day.

In brightness there is noise,
of birds, animals, people,
but in that last bit
of darkness moon and I commune.
Sunlight warms,
but also reveals worries, concerns.
Yes, yes, I love the sunshine,
but these days I do not step
out into it.
It’s that early morning time,
alone with moonlight,
when I can safely open
up to the outside. To myself.

moon, full

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: As always, a number of thoughts rushed in when you gave this prompt. I went out and took pictures, but was upset that my shadow appeared in all of them. So, I tried a photo of the doorway, looking out. And then it came to me—always, but especially in this time of confinement to avoid infection, the door lies between me and the outside world as much as it is a way that the world comes in (during more normal times). I love going out, and enjoy the sun, but I am a true introvert, and it is true, my favorite view from out that door is the early morning view of setting moon on full moon mornings. Thank you for this opportunity to submit. So glad you are back!

Joan Leotta seaglass necklace

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Joan Leotta plays with words on page and stage. Her poems have been published in Silver Birch Press, Peacock Journal, Ovunque Siamo, Red Eft, Gnashing Teeth, and others. Her essays, short stories, and articles are also widely published. On stage, she tells tales of food, family, and strong women. She has a one-woman show featuring Louisa May Alcott as a Civil War nurse. When not writing or performing she walks the beach looking for shells.