#LostKeys

The keys hang around,
dangling and jangling,
eyeing a puzzle, a lock,
a smooth click.

Most often cut different,
they enter, nevertheless,
and try to turn.

If the door opens, then what?
Another door awaits inside,
and another, and another...

in between are the shading whites of painted dreams

...always deeper inside,
for no door opens up the sky.

Occasionally a key rebels,
and wonders what...