Halfway Closed

The subway doors hiss, closing fast,

my jacket caught—zipper stalls,

a jagged line that will not pass,

one side stuck while cold wind calls.

Fingers pull and fingers slide,

tooth against tooth, a metal snare.

The train waits, no time to hide,

caught in this half-finished prayer.

Cold breath rises, rising dread,

one side wants, the other resists.

Frozen halfway, stuck in thread,

a zipper’s cruel, slow twist.