Always and Slowly

I’m on a stairway leading
to the left.
Cold, hollow
iron slowly replaces
the hard wood.
Step after step
the intricately carved, oak banister
slims down at a snail’s pace
to a steel bar.
The creaking,
which annoyed me at first,
turns to the ‘klang’
as my feet tromp over
the metal plates.
I miss the creak
of the solid, old pine,
the life
gone.
The smooth iron turns to grates
and the railing
falls into a black mist
billowing below.
Never up,
never down,
always and slowly
to the left.

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