Johnathan's Stairs

I had seen him once and only once
The first impression was the last
A staircase, a journey from one level to the next
A simple ascent or descent
We always know where we are going.

He was neither here nor there
Half upstairs and half down
Like a clown dancing a trick on a tight rope
Face nondescript with muted agony unspeakable
He passed by me like a sheet in the wind.

I never learned his name, only his face
The rope was his new umbilical cord
Tight and taught around his ashen neck
I couldn't tell if he was trying to escape
Or if he was trying to rush to his end.

Years passed, just as I passed those same stairs
I had no name to give him, only a title
"John Doe" seemed to plain and emotionless
Like a chalk outline on the pavement, a shape
"Johnathan" seemed more formal.