The Geometry of the Back Stairs

The elevator gave up on the second floor

so I’m taking the concrete, flight by flight.

My keys slipped through my fingers at the door

and became a ringing hammer in the light.

They hit the landing and the sound went wide,

a metal shatter that climbed up the walls,

then fell down the shaft to the basement side,

bouncing like a ghost through the hollow halls.

I stood there until the vibration died out,

wrapped in the silence of the industrial paint.

A heavy fire door slammed with a shout,

and the air in the stairwell felt sudden and faint.