Monday, March 6, 2023

At the Bottom of the Stairs

To have come this far,

Back up then, and 

On again down longer

Than any I’ve known,

Or seen die.  In my 

DNA, further back

Some went further down,

Some few.  The mystique

Escaped me.  I lost something

In the fall.  I wasn’t there as

I would have been in the past

looking down from bridge-railings,

And from oil-derricks’ summits.

Sure then of a steady hand

And an early taste for climbing.

Once more seemed more at

First than I could manage;

Yet I did and sat up there

Staring down, and they 

Stood clear of the bottom

Step with nothing beyond.

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