Below my desk
Is a set of three drawers
The first two smaller
The third large
I had a key once
Which I lost
Funny thing about them
Any one stays
Always open on its own
I kick them shut
Shoving the top two
With my knee
But when the first clicks in
The third slides out
And when that is pushed in
The second bares its secrets
Not that I have any
In there or elsewhere
Just that I like
Drawers and doors shut
But these keep opening
Like God’s (or Gates’) windows
Showing signs of opportunity.
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