Stepping up, I proceed
To clomp down the steps
Of the rickety spiral stairs;
I ascend the lofty tower
To serve my night vigil
In the shabby lighthouse.
While walking up,
With every stride
I court danger --
My only prop is the pillar
In the middle of the fliers.
Walking up unsteady stairs,
I hold the only sturdy prop --
The pivot
Of my glimmering soul;
The higher I proceed
To climb up the stairs,
The lighter is my footfall,
The faster I hold on to my soul,
I don't trust this old man's body.
A Collection of Voices from Around the World is more than just a poetry compilation. It is a partnership of poets from around the globe brought together by an internet poetry forum. That forum, poetrypages.com, has been the home of many a fine poet s
Ron