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Cherry and oak,
sturdy cupboards
handcrafted by some grandfather carpenter,
arranged in rows and rows.
Custom cabinetry in my mind.

Doors are open, others closed.
Some are dented, faded, aged by
memory or misuse.
Others are new, not yet stained.

A single door is locked.

Inside, thoughts–
like Schrödinger’s Cat–
exist and do not.

Until I decide
to unlock the door
and see.


Sarah Stasik lives with her family on a crooked mountain in Southwest Virginia, where they enjoy hiking, watching movies, and reading books together, among other things.  You can find out more about Sarah’s writing here.

© 2010, Sarah Stasik

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