The quiet swish of metal and glass
Waiting patiently for me to pass,
Into a place well known,
Almost a second home.
A threshold crossed so many times
Sometimes with a smile
Sometimes with a frown
Often empty, but sometimes a line,
Coming or going in single file
Or people just hanging around.
An entry whose dimensions change
Depending on that frown or smile
When the distance can range,
Sometimes it’s a metre, sometimes it’s a mile.