The door hinge spoke as I entered
And welcomed me within.
The graveness of my feeling
Was startled by its sound.
My poor attempt at sorrow,
Unbroken my disdain:
My hollowness abounding,
Considered in this welcome
This place called home-
I harken from what border?
I crossed what boundless sea?
Escaping or returning,
Adventuring?
I know not in what darkness
Awaits my sacred bane-
The challenge of the leaf grass 
Against my skin,
Sent me back from darkness
To dark again-
Both familiar,
Familiar-
The echo of the darkness,
Receiving and foreboding,
Temptation or a calling,
To go there seeking,
To stay or leave-
Whence none return-
Or in returning,
I thus reject
What might await, 
Outside this door-
The heart is homeless,
Or always homeless,
The heart is home-
This sounds familiar;
This squeaks: “Hello”-
I thought the voice was one I knew,
But then I tried the door again,
Displaced the notion that it spoke-
The house is sleeping:
The door is mute-
Nothing to follow;
No other call.

Stephen Hawks, born in Washington D. C., has lived most of his life in Georgia. He has training in art, music, and theater, an AA in theater from South Georgia College, a BFA from Valdosta State University and an interdisciplinary MFA, with a concentration in Ceramics from Florida State University. He was Resident Potter at Westville living history museum for 19 years and an independent artist for over 30 years. He is married to Nancy Sneed and they have two grown daughters. Currently, he oversees the Ceramics Program in the visual Arts Department at The University of Texas Rio Grande Valley on the Brownsville campus, and teaches Ceramics, Design, and Senior Exhibit Classes.
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