That Sound

It was a nature show, I think,

some Arctic tent unzipped.

That rasp, that thin metallic clink,

my stomach gave a flip.

I’d seen it maybe years before,

a thing they showed with care.

A final seal behind a door

that nothing could repair.

It lodged itself, a tiny shard,

a sound that means finality.

Now any zipper, rough or hard,

brings back that raw reality.