Another Set of Stairs

You are not the first
to fall through the ceiling,
to have the floor collapse under you unexpectedly.
It is not even the first time
it has happened to you, When,
with a crack, you are falling,
often not knowing just how far
and having no time to think or prepare
before you slam into the floor below,
your progress to the sky ended
with bruises and broken bones,
looking up into the light of the floor above,
wondering if that sound you hear is laughing.

Devil or Angel, let them laugh.
You have been broken before
and as bad as the moment may be,
you have survived worse and know exactly
where the stairs are. Stairs, if not to heaven,
at least higher. Up. Onward. Aching perhaps,
but always persistent.

About this poem

Yeah, this has happened a time or few. And yeah, I am still climbing stairs.

The picture was taken in an abandoned factory in Turner’s Falls, Mass.

Tom