Steps

One foot in front of the
other hurts.
My gait is off.
The people on the street
see me stagger.
I know they think I’m drunk.

My two legs have to
become three.
One is a stick.
It propels me forward but
there’s still pain.
If I stand still, I fall.

I’m now propped up by four
more legs.
These ones have wheels.
They’re truly my constant
companion.
With them, I begin to soar.

Until I’m met with a
closed door.
And only stairs.
Some places will not take
the steps I need
so that I can take mine.

Still, I push on and
roll along.
My voice is strong.
I will show you I
am still fierce.
And I’ve every right…

…to access the same space
as you.
I’m a person,
who puts one foot in
front of the other.
How about we find a way

to walk together?

_{Steps © 2017 Cait Gordon. All rights reserved. No part of this poem may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles and reviews. For more information, contact Cait Gordon.}

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