07 Jun 2025 1 min read poetry

Some stairs Alabama

They dug. They dug and said there is too much. Too much hill, too much red, too much in the way. They said the way must be clearer and the hill must be less. So they cut the red and the hill became line and the line became flat and the flat was not the hill. The stair was not flat.

It stayed. It stayed not flat. It stayed where it had been staying, it was up. It had gone up and it had kept going up even when there was nothing left to go up to. It had been made to meet the hill but the hill was taken.

They did not take it because they did not need to. It was not the hill. It was only standing. So it stood. It was not lifted and not shifted. They left it and left it again.

They said maybe later. Maybe later for it. But later is a soft word and it was hard. It was made of hard and it stayed hard. The red clung to it and the green grew beside it and the stair stayed waiting for feet.