pot o' gold

step
by
step,
down
that
murky,
dank
stair,
a trillion
glistening,
slimy
microbes,
their
teeny
clutches,
seeking
any hold:
the darkness,
overwhelming,
the only
sound,
your brief
stifling;
when
suddenly,
upon the
final step,
is found
not terror,
but
a pot o' gold.



September 18, 2010.

Copyright © 2010, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.