The Ladder
by Terry Ofner
by Terry Ofner
I stand
the ladder in
the soft soil
of the
perennial bed, climb
up like a
thief of nests, and pull
a perfect egg
of twigs, leaves,
and seeds
from the mouth
of the
plugged downspout.
I lean
to the left
to steady the ladder
that lists
slightly to the right
under my
weight. I feel like
a child
canceling differences
between
parents somewhere
off the
emotional balance sheet.
I perch
up there a
minute after pulling the plug
and watch the
giddy water laugh
down the
aluminum passage
to the side
yard. It musters there
with other
waters, planning invasions
of low places
in the neighborhood.
I leave
the ladder in
the bed—a creaky apparatus,
no substitute
for wings—but for certain jobs
it does just
fine. Irises at its feet
speak in
purple tongues, toasting
each other
for their part in releasing
the
long-stopped waters of spring.
Bio: Terry Ofner grew up in Iowa not far from the Mississippi River. He
holds degrees from the University of Iowa, where he attended the undergraduate
Iowa Writer's Workshop in poetry. He is currently an editor for an educational
publishing company. He has published poems in World Order, 100 Words,
Eclectica, and Right Hand Pointing. His poem "Mama Carving" won first place in the Interboard Poetry Community
Contest, January 2015
(Ned Balbo, judge). He is drawn to themes of nature and family and is working
on his first collection of poems.