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The Step
December 23, 2014
I never bothered to salt the steps.
In the days and the months that
Dragged and dragged infinitely on toward death
I got used to, comforted by, the thrill of close-calls —
The inexhaustible pleasure of confronting my frail existence
As I felt the ground slip away.
And in the brighter days
I was warmed by my own resiliency
Kindled by my own stupidity
Blissfully, recklessly brave,
As I had made it through the cold.
If I had opened my eyes, I could have
Predicted the destructive path that I
So easily made my way across.
No, I had every opportunity under the sun
To correct the course I charted, onwards —
Onwards toward my own unraveling.
And still
I took
That step.
© Stacey L., New City, NY
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I had my own vision of this piece and what it symbolizes, but it isn't the only way to look at it. All perspectives are correct, and I'd love to hear some thoughts on what others got from the piece!