- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Concrete sonnets
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The slate covered steel steps show signs of wear. A gentle valley created by countless journeys.
To romantic a description ?
Then you’ve never grown up in a city.
Plausible excuses weigh heavy adding to the wear as you go over the inevitable question,
“ where were you when I called”, or the guilt searching,
“ didn’t I tell you to stay on the block “.
Each thoughtfully rehearsed answer put down a little more forcefully, adding to the wear, as you climb to your fate.
Climb to your fate, that’s exactly what you do as you tell her to whisper quietly as you pass the last two apartment doors to reach the landing at the door to the roof.
The slate is cool against your bare skin and the hot summer night.
Over time the steps fit your shoe and your mood.
Now you climb the steps not to answer as a child but in thoughtful consideration of your own direction and worth. The steps seem to add to the weariness that the end of another day brings.
You consider a move, somewhere that you wouldn’t have to climb so many steps.
