HER NAME She haunts me. Daily. When I wake up, she hides under the bed for only a moment. Teasing that she went away. I blink and she’s back tapping on my shoulder with her manicured nail, painted in blood red and sharpened to a tip. Interrupting my thoughts; my hopes; reminding me that she Is always there. Waiting. Stalking. I plan a future but she frays the corners of my mind, teasing me about flights and storms and the dangers of them all. She reminds me of the future that

Article from our November Issue of OpenDoor Magazine. Subscribe to our free, monthly, digital magazine for articles, interviews, author/artists features, and theme poetry from around the world- opendoorpoetrymagazine.com Autumn Leaves and Missed Moments “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall” – F. Scott Fitzgerald We are entering my favorite time of year. And I mean my FAVORITE time of year, especially living in the Northern part of the United States – wh