Weathered Steps, Old Friends

Steps to the back door…
Not even a fleck of paint remains…
Wood worn and frayed at the edges.

Years and years of faithful support.
Always there to help you inside,
While dismissing the harshest weather.

They still bear up, uncomplaining, under heavy weight,
But greet you happily in the morning,
And wave a soulful goodnight in the evening.

Leave a comment