When our poet Simon Haines was a child, his bedroom door, left slightly ajar, was his portal to a safe world. It is Day 731 of the Daily Poems.
Just a crack
As a child, going to bed could be an ordeal
once Mum and Dad were downstairs.
They’d read me a story and kissed me goodnight
before tucking me snugly in.
Though I wasn’t really afraid of the dark
once they’d gone, anxiety swept in;
so to keep me in touch with the wide-awake world
my door was left slightly ajar, so
a thin crack of light could still be seen,
and a mumble of voices heard
helping me sleep feeling safe and secure
not doomed to the darkness of night.
Simon Haines