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
budd