Ladder Rungs

The gravel twists and turns 

Beneath my humbled feet

Tonight alone I walk 

This dreary mountain street

The clouding overhead

Is clouding up my head

Low and rather ominous

Grumbling this I said

As low as my esteem

Near dark a mood can seem

The rumbling and the 

Darkness of living on the lean.

A hunter’s shot across the gorge

Was heard by all this muted call

Reminding who the worthy be

A deer or maybe only me. 

Fat drops of fate descended on

Water splat and then ran on

To gullys, streams and sadder songs

And lower lesser ladder rungs.

Laurie B. Ballard   4/20/11