King Tut lived in our laundry chute
the dark wooden door
the airy metal-walled chamber
that led to the beyond
or nothing.

Can it be that I once went down it,
landing in a plastic basket
of sheets and towels, not caring
if they were dirty or clean,

only that they softened my landing?
We must have been alone in the house,
if that happened. I do know, I do recall

many nights, walking a wide path
to avoid that door
as my brother whispered, King Tut
KING … TUT!

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Today’s Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge prompt was “opening.”