STONES

Satisfaction

Not that it was promotional, recognizable or exemplary —

the sound of the key in the lock — that sound in the night,

an idea of the shape of the key, its simple mechanism,

and the secret exactness and obedience. Of course it wasn’t

promotional; besides who would you have to promote it to?

The one holding the key was unknown and the door too.

Perhaps the only pride: that we retained that sound

while at the far end of the hall the old-caretaker passed

naked with a white towel covering his head.

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