Age Stall

On a ladder

stretching up into space,

walking downwards

as each year

approaches and passes



When I first met you

I was way above,

in the clouds.

I barely knew

anything at all.

The air was too thin.


I started climbing down

way after you,

yet it seems

you are stuck

on a rung

slightly above me.


Your experiences

in the cloudy winds

far outnumber mine,

yet your movement is halted.

Did you stop

in the middle

of an ascent

or a descent?


I don’t remember

being at the top

or the bottom

of my ladder,

so I suppose,

this could be flipped.


I believe I am descending

down to Earth

to meet the dusty end.

Are you trying to ascend

to the heavens?

Did you stop

on your perceived descent

when you realized

the destination

that faced you?

Is stopping

an attempt to retain

the purity of youth?


As the passing years

start wear,

I wonder if you,

will ever be forced down

a rung.

I must keep going.


In a few years

I suppose,

if you stay stagnant,

I will no longer

be able

to see or communicate

with you

through the clouds.


With a connection

such as ours,

will you try to stave that off?

Or gladly drop me

like a dead weight

in an attempt

to buoy some distance

to Heaven.


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