Old man in the stairs
You cannot pass here
No one comes through
No one gets out alive.
I had ridden past here a few times before and
He had let me in, or
He hadn’t seen me.
I climbed the stairs and looked down
I saw what they didn’t want me to see.
All the things laid out, waiting,
All the possibilities.
They were gold and moved just a little
When you looked straight at them.
There was another girl with me
She said shed been there before.
She liked to come on Tuesdays and drink her
Under the trees
Above the world.
She said, thoughtfully so,
Tipping her head a bit,
That she couldn’t see the possibilities anymore.
It was dark down there.
And it scared her.
I asked why she hadn’t climbed down the stairs to see if she
Could find the gold again
At the bottom of the stairs
Through the city
Hiding in the cracks.
She looked pensively at me and said
I don’t know how.
I looked out again at the
Glimmer, the glittery
Shining gold space of
All the things that haven’t happened
What do you think you’re going to do
If there’s nothing you
Want to do?
She’d finished her tea and sat up.
I’ll be back next Tuesday