When It Hits

by Bobby Pease

I unwillingly woke up to a morning where

I peeled paint from steps

For hours in the sun burnt afternoon

All for them to

Be scuffed up by a foot

That doesn’t belong to me.

Now I can’t lay on my back without

My skin burning. There is no use

Peeling what doesn’t come off with

Fingers and

I wake up tomorrow with a red back,

Naked steps, knowing I have no choice

But to paint them again.