Waiting for someone outside the door at the end of the hallway (A poem)

A scene from last night’s activities…

The sign is ragged, torn
with pieces missing


I know which stairs those are
I have no desire to take them
no matter how many footsteps
I hear from the floor above

I do wonder, though
when the thundering herd
stampeding through the second-floor halls
suddenly comes to a halt

Everything gets really quiet
for a moment, anyway
until someone in heels
comes marching through

(14 October 2015—posted October 15th)