Stairs;

There will always be
stairs to climb.
Streetlights will come on
in morning
and go out at night.
Trees will grow;
they will flower and
leaves will fall.

There will always be
stairs to climb;
maybe not always
hands to hold,
twinkling eyes to see,
soft touches.
Seasons always change;
time doesn’t

wait. Sit, crawl, walk, race–
for there will
always be stairs to
climb. I will
not always be here;
as long as
I am, I will climb
those stairs, too.

Written for Sadje’s “What Do You See?”