Poetryseeds
Maria Guzvic
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4,004 STEPS



Four thousand and four steps
To the top of the hill
Yes, he had counted each
A way of time to fill

He had gone on this trek
To be free and clear his mind
A relationship with you
Had muddled his mind

Having stood at the foothill
Staring up the stony face
He wanted to put you
In a transitional place

Each step though had taught him
It was a step further from you
So he tallied them to promise
Such vast difference from view

The summit was cold
Bleakness held his hand
But somehow he felt
He had ascended to no-man's land

Three thousand and three steps
He skimmed like a bird
Back down the side
For he held just three words

He ran to your shape
Oblivious to worry
A tiny little mouse
With reason to scurry

I love you, he gushed
As he encircled his arms
Kissing your sweet lips
And melting into your charms





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