Tag Archives: ladder

Earth

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

If only it would snow,
white covering red;
red now is everywhere
in this world.
 
If you go up into space
all that is made by man is gray;
gray is everywhere
in this world.
 
I want to put a ladder
further up
so that what I see
is the red-brown
of the earth,
 
the green of vegetation,
and the lovely blue of water,
shrouded by a white,
see-through shawl
around her shoulders
where there is no longer gray.

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Ladder

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

The desert tarantula
ambles across
the roadways
and wide open lands
in late summer
when the monsoons
are done,
during the mating season.

Perhaps
they can show
us how to put
our ladders against
the sky
so we can climb
out of this place,

ladders made
of silk and that hang
on nothing, so
we can climb
out of our hole.

I get close
to one tarantula
but he gets
in his warrior stance,
ready to strike.

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Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry