Skipping Steps

Skipping Steps

Today I caught myself--

As I ascended the stairs

To the second floor,

For that certain pen

I was sure I’d left up there

In my office

Yesterday, or was it 

The day before 

                 (Or Sunday?)—

Counting skipped steps as I 

Double climbed, 

Suddenly conscious that

I was doing this thing

I’d been doing throughout

My entire youth, my whole

Lifetime without thinking:

Unconsciously fearless:

Thoughtlessly.

Why, this day, need I pause?

Why wonder why?

And what about breathing?

Must I think about 

That too? Automatic, no?

And thinking? Heart?

What of reckless forging

Forward? Onward?

Yet Upward?

Then, with pen in hand,

It was there, I knew,

I descended more slowly

Than I ever had:

Foot before foot, careful.

Tight-holding the banister

That I don’t remember ever

Holding before:

Not falling.

Then, I remembered, now

Conscious of my

Forgetfulness, that I could

Not possibly write

This poem, unstructured

And sloppy as it is,

Without that pad of paper

Still on my desk,

Still upstairs.

Read more of my poetry, essays, and stories at Momentitiousness.com