Laughter Of Broken Stairs

Laughter Of Broken Stairs
© Surazeus
2018 12 17

Laughter of broken stairs, spiraling high
through ambitious clouds of stale afternoon,
explain fractured puzzle of secret lies
that still hangs as portrait of the great hero
on bleeding wall where spiders crawl from gloom,
while the nameless sit mute in empty rooms
and weave sunlight into meaningless words
we forget to say when we leave the house.

Laughter of broken stairs, whispering our names
hidden in rain-wet leaves of lost dreams when,
from boundless forest of indifferent trees,
still bearing snow from the high mountain peak,
we arrive in town, searching for the mask
no one in authority ever wears,
and explain how shadows of light know why
words sprout flowers from silence of lost time.

Laughter of broken stairs, shooting beyond
silent walls of hope in haven of faith,
describe obvious patterns of crawling words
that reveal footsteps in river-shore mud,
though we always hold hands when we explore
conceptual language from spark of our brains,
to breathe transcendental spirit of hope
blank horror never finds us hiding where.

Laughter of broken stairs, howling from books
that shiver on shelves of desire because,
huddled under bushes from sudden rains,
each face pale in purple shadow of wind,
we exchange silent memories of strange smells
pungent from moist soil under our bare feet,
as if we know when and where we will die,
secret fear haloed by sun through mute leaves.