I wish you had warned me,
When we were young,
Or some other time,
While we sat on the terrace,
Drinking wine,
Or, perhaps, the time
We walked for hours,
Miserably lost,
Or that evening
We slept on the sand,
And could smell the sea
And could feel its pulse,
Or the time we sat
In a waiting room,
As quiet as air,
Reading ragged magazines,
Wishing we were
Somewhere else,
Or any time,
In the time we had left,
In simple words,
In a voice as loud
As a coyote’s howl,
Or soft like whispers
Of conspiring thieves;
In shuddering stammer
Or wrenching rasp,
In scattered sobs,
Or syllables spat,
In a long moan
Like dying breath,
The only thing
I needed to know:
That someday
I would be all alone,
And walk the house
In a sad trance,
And find myself
At the foot of the stairs,
Gaze up at the top
As if it were a universe,
And need to summon
All my strength
To climb those cruel,
Inhuman steps.

– Walter Weinschenk