What I love about doors
              is what’s waiting inside
What I hate about inside
              is the emptiness of rooms
What I love about rooms
               is the comfort of bed
What I hate about bed
                is the alarm-clock next day
What I love about day
                is how it turns into night
What I hate about night
                is the delusion of dreams
What I love about dreams
                 is waking up in the morning
What I hate about morning
                   is when its third letter is ‘u’
What I love about ‘u’
                   is your ‘o’ and your ‘y’
What I hate about ‘y’
                   is its puzzling questions
What I love about questions
                   is being right now and then
What I hate about then
                    is how it may have been once
What I love about once
                     is twice – then three times
What I hate about times
                      is the multiplication
What I love about multiplication
                       is how it’s never enough
What I hate about enough
                       is it’s hardly enormous
What I love about enormous
                       is the size of this city
What I hate about this city
                        is it’s so far from home
What I love about home
                         is the opening of doors
What I hate about doors
                         is what’s waiting inside



Phil Bowen


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