Untitled

A winding stair…
Now chipped,
stained
And strained.

Holding tales
of secrets and pain,
of falls, trips and slides.

Crevices from where
tiny lives crawled out
And a life lived rested for deep slumber
Leaving behind etched trails of memories.

It stands with beauty and grace
Shaped by the steps that walked on it
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tip toes…
angry thuds…
joyous jumps…
And hasty runs.

Now, home to wilting leaves
cobwebs and crawlers,
It waits…
Waits for a step…
Waits to be stepped on
One last time
Before all its memories
Are shredded apart.

(Inspired by a friend’s photograph: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=315325821888444&set=a.104908362930192.15435.100002330864155&type=1&theater )