A poetic photo

Stairway

Once upon a time it had a purpose.
It was built into a plan.
Each step led you up
to the next,
and the next,
until you reached
your destination in the sky.

It was a stairway to a room with a view,
a view of the world that once was.

In reality I imagine this once upon
a time.
Sitting up there
High on the mountain of my memories.

Distorted in the delusions of my dreams
It weathers.

I wonder if it ever was?
That, which is no longer.

The stairs
are still there, stepping
up to thin air. Rising from the tide
that crept up on them.

[Just like I do]

Tip-toeing to the top,
in the rain.

Up.Up.Up.
I stare down.

Drip.Drip.

Drop.
I fall with my umbrella.