A hollow wooden staircase — more like
an angled ladder — led up to my bedroom,
so that I was always well forewarned,
– by the sound of the clack of
shod or bare feet on the planks –
of anyone coming up to see me.
And the sounds came to speak
to me as a voice, often telling
me exactly who to expect; someone
fast or slow, heavy or light,
old or young…
