All that weight
hangs on a piece
of metal, flush,
matter-of-factly
against the jamb
of a bedroom
door. Once, there
was a birth,
later a death,
between clamor:
someone opens
a pair of legs
and makes love,
someone closes
a fist and fights
their whole life;
all pending
on a slender pin,
a backbone,
solemn, almost
motherly quiet,
then cries out.