We will not be able to climb stairs one day
but what we see are those hands, clasped, always old,
palms lined by a thick husk
on the final shiver of wake.
I run so much
but nothing escapes;
one paused on the steps
not what I

2 Responses to Demons

  1. L_M June 20, 2013 at 8:04 pm #

    Absolutely touching. Who wrote this?

  2. Lian Julia June 21, 2013 at 8:00 am #

    Many poems out there; this and a Chance Upon few impact.

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