Flower Children (Thursday Doors)

She had no words but she had a piece of a tune.
She followed behind herself, looking for the lineage.
She unearthed the roots between the staves, searching.
Did she want to set them free?  or air them out?
She turned over note after note trying to find
the threads that contained the key.  They were tangled,
disconnected.  The missing lines covered the ground,
scattered in all directions.  Which to follow?

~she wondered~

Where was the strongest branch?  The one
that held her inside its skin?  The one
that contained the cells of her bones, the pathways
for her blood?  Could the parts that were cut off,
missing, lost, be replaced–reunited with the melody?
Her hands touched the delicate fibers, wistful.
She remembered music, being part of a harmony,
a living chord.  But she had forgotten how to sing.

You could easily pass this tenement by without noticing the two guardians I dubbed flower children. But since I’m always looking at doors now, I crossed the street to have a closer look.

Each one is a bit different and full of lovely details. They seem to be looking at something beyond our mere human senses.

As it turns out, the building is an HDFC Restricted-Income co-op, containing 20 one-bedroom apartments, four per floor. There is a cap on what the seller can charge, making them more affordable than similar market-rate apartments. The monthly maintenance charges are especially reasonable. It seems to be a walk-up building, but there are many co-ops that don’t have elevators in New York.

Built in 1890, it was designed by Gilbert A Schellenger. He evidently began his career doing brownstones in Brooklyn, but eventually made his mark on all kinds of buildings all over the city. There’s one nearby that I want to go investigate as the Daytonian has a write-up on its history.

My puente was written for Dora’s dVerse Poetics prompt, to consider a time in our lives when we were young and green.

And look for more doors, as always, at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.