November 10, 2017
Photo by Stephen Borkowski
Going up the stairs at night
A Poem by Hilde Oleson
It was one of the scariest things in life.
To leave the lighted living room,
Having kissed your protector good night,
To drag your weary self to those stairs.
To look up into the dark hall ahead.
“Put on the light,” your mother called.
But it is not enough.
There are dark shadows lurking . . .
Your feet are heavy and there is the weirdest
Sound emitting from each step.
All day you pounded up and down those stairs
Never hearing that.
It must be danger’s warning.
You know there is something behind the closet door
That you must hurry past.
Light switch after switch you try to hasten
But the feet are leaden
And the fear is great,
At last, the bed. The sanctuary of the bed.
The blessed joy of crawling into bed pulling the covers tight
To find the safety of deep sleep.