Open Door
Luther is actually in the Mansion this time--usually doesn't venture there, too far from his earth, from whatever secret place he lives (growing into a tree by now, or one of the old boulders that are covered with root and seem to be growing out of the ground, pushing up like a seed).
Actually in the Mansion, looking for something and nothing.
(He had three daughters and a wife. The day meant something to one of them. The errant memory is curled and falling, like a wood shaving from a workbench, a soft sawdusty sadness that will settle on the floor like all the others.
Not, of course, that it matters. He doesn't keep secrets; they just are.)
Actually in the Mansion, looking for something and nothing.
(He had three daughters and a wife. The day meant something to one of them. The errant memory is curled and falling, like a wood shaving from a workbench, a soft sawdusty sadness that will settle on the floor like all the others.
Not, of course, that it matters. He doesn't keep secrets; they just are.)