Once (or twice) in youth I trimmed a purple elder whip & marched through clearings grown in jewel weed, cutting the wand through green
When I open a door I turn the knob gently, fling it with my hand or pull it wide, then look inside before I
though to tell the truth, you were speaking to me, face-to-face, on a topic I brought up, over a lunch I suggested, was drafty