He Knocks
Article voiceover
He knocks when you are alone, Praying in your room. Do you hear him? Hear the footfalls on coarse carpet, Those familiar thumps; The hollow knocks; pregnant pause; And fragile turning of cheap hinges. You prayed for answers, but he came: Unbidden, as the heavy plow to students on a snowy morn. Metal strikes stone, singing death— Scatter the fragments in banks of snow. Old age hath long remembered what every child forgets. It may be read in every empty nest, and chipped red brick, and tattered page. He waits for you, down the hall. Knock and enter.