A Metre or a Mile

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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.