ATOP the stairs, at sunup…

LOOKING down, a dream still weakly trailing
Sometimes giving up on the riddle
Other times, savoring the good feeling

THE smile fades as my feet grow cold
For its Showtime, and show up, I must
As the day invades with crimson gold

MY role comes to life as the sunlight roars
Descending each step, I drown more
Until lost in the assembly line of daily chores

BUT that nagging feeling at the back o’ my mind
That unfinished book, a cozy cuppa (if not wine)
‘N a bit of me, that I’d left behind

All waiting
Until sundown
Atop the stairs

In response to The Daily Post: Weekly Photo Challenge. Atop.