It went many years,
But at last came a knock,
And I thought of the door
With no lock to lock.
 
I blew out the light,
I tip—toed the floor,
And raised both hands
In prayer to the door.
 
But the knock came again
My window was wide;
I climbed on the sill
And descended outside.
 
Back over the sill
I bade a “Come in”
To whoever the knock
At the door may have been.
 
So at a knock
I emptied my cage
To hide in the world
And alter with age.

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