Mike Bell/ December 13, 2015/ 0 comments

Steep steps off the platform,
On a re-railed trip,
A lad lifts my bag:
My sudden short-stair blip,
Is unstepped-signage
Of now being infirm;
These journeys
my stick informs.

I once held doors wide,
For the fading greyed-few,
I am now a member
Of the stick-crazed crew:
Entrance and exit,
No longer shoulder-shoved,
Now cared for by strangers,
In dignified love.

Share this Post

Leave a ReplyCancel reply