Life at the top of the stairs

Life at the top of the stairs
for L.

Having to be somewhere—
I found myself living on the landing  
at the top of the stairs.

A thousand times a thousand times
I finished in my mind the unfinished
painting leaning against the wall.

The eight-legged one,
tiny Protectorate of the Shadows
guarding her eggs,
she alone knows the rest of the story

the window
e comatose trees
the fog drenched night
and all the sad creatures and
voices caught in the scaffolding there.