One more Thor Sørheim poem

step by step

Step by step I distanced myself from the table lamp

which was transformed into a gleaming circle down there

in the hall, and the black patent leather shoes pointed their noses

open-mouthed towards the doormat. At the top of the stairs

I had come as far up beneath the sky

as it was possible to come. The world fell into place

on the dark ceiling in the shadow of solid tiers of joists

and bent piping, as at a museum

where all the artefacts are marked with labels

that state origin, properties and how long they

have been in use. For many a long year I collected dogmatics

in stiff archive boxes, for I had forgotten

that the world is there to be misunderstood, and that people try

as best they can to act in good doubt. I suddenly yearned

back to the smell of the socks with holes in the wardrobe,

the wet raincoats hung up to dry, the gleaming elegies

of the posters. Step by step I calmly descended

with my hand firmly gripping a perplexed banister.