I dive off the landing
from the top of the stairs
and frantically grab at the tiny copper beads 
that are the pull-chain of the bare-bulb light
knowing full well they will not hold me

Descent is an endless whorl

I am found with them still clenched in my hand,
the light yet intact, the handrail unbroken

No seeping liquids anywhere

cc: Chagall 2021