|Photo from my office post-holiday party this weekend.|
Halfway down the stairs / Is a stair / Where I sit. / There isn’t any / Other stair / Quite like / It. / I’m not at the bottom, / I’m not at the top; / So this is the stair / Where / I always / Stop. / Halfway up the stairs / Isn’t up, / And isn’t down. / It isn’t in the nursery, / It isn’t in the town. / And all sorts of funny thoughts / Run round my head: / “It isn’t really / Anywhere! / It’s somewhere else / Instead!”
Which is where I am, I think, most days as I walk around thinking I look like this. Not up, not down, not afraid even, but somewhere else instead.