The predawn stare

planning out the day ahead.

The treacherous stairs

down the side of an eroded cliff

every neighbor has them

row after row after row

a protective rib cage spanning the coast.

A century of family members trudging

along a worn out trip to the beach,

how time has taken from this place.

The gentle fog seems so peaceful,

as it roles in and out every day

grabbing with it’s long fingers.

This was a summer project perhaps,

a time when society freely gathered

to lend a helpful hand.

Today however, those hands want.

With just two weeks to restore

a safe well built pathway for friends.

What must of taken years to complete

will be dismantled and hauled by nightfall.

Uneven boards laid over sand

the sun bakes every bit of moisture out,

causing a twisted and contorted path

a broken spine spewing across the sand.

The once beautiful walkway allowed us

to walk hand in hand and make promises.

By myself, with the sun just coming up

I can only hope these new steps

will be used and walked on

for the next 100 years

through decades of change

long after I’ve left.

2 thoughts on “The Weathered Steps

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