An Unnecessary Gate by Paul Ilechko

The squeaking gate swings melancholy

above the tattered steps that lead

to a most conventional porch. 

The rusted gate:

an unnecessary appendage, left over

from a previous incarnation

of ownership. 

Give me a wire brush.

Give me a can of black enamel paint.

With such implements, I will make

of this gate a new and admirable

entryway, one that leads from the external world

to my personal approximation of heaven.

Paul Ilechko was born in England but has lived much of his life in the USA. He currently lives in Lambertville, NJ with his girlfriend and a cat. Paul has had poetry published and/or accepted recently by Third Wednesday, Sick Lit Magazine, Gloom Cupboard, MockingHeart Review and Slag Review, among others.