Through a misty fog I walked; I came upon a clearing. In the middle of the clearing I saw three doors, each a different color. I saw each door stood alone, where might they lead?
I walk around each one. I wondered: could this be some strange display for a hardware store in the middle of a forest?
A voice began to recite: “Red is for passion, white is mourning, blue is cold winter’s death…”
Another said: “Red is for passion, white is for purity, blue is melancholy…”
I realized that my choice was between the Eastern and Western symbology!
Genre: Prose Poem
Word count: 100