There is much to tell of someone

by the way they climb me;

there are those that take me

one step at a time, at a normal pace,

or two at a time because they have long legs;

those that sprint up because they are late;

or pause halfway to turn and admire the view;

those that walk down too fast and twist an ankle,

or trudge up wearily under an overstuffed backpack;

those that walk normally at first, then at the end

they run, skipping up the last few stairs,

taking joy in the oft overlooked accomplishment

of climbing the staircase.