I Rang the Bell

I rang the bellto the pastand the owner let me inso I could climbseven stepsand stand in the doorwayof a narrownessthat was once my roomon the second floorof a split-level houseon the cornerof a suburban developmentin the villageof my adolescenceand time bent me backto that fitful nightwhen I tried to scalethe rusty stairsof a freight train rollingout of control in the yardso I could set the brakesand stop the runawaydead in his tracksbut insteadI pulled a bookcasedown on my bodyand woke upstartledto find my parentsfrightened in the hallwayand my books —or was it my future? —scattered on the floor.