Inside birch cones
live ladder people.
They build tiny
fires and carry
hand-made ladders
to cliffs, perching
there for nights
and days, singing
to each other,
letting blue moths
alight on their hands.
These people of
the birch cones
decorate their ladders
and themselves with
paint and bits of string.
Comes a light rain.
The ladder people descend.
Comes a stiff breeze,
and birch limbs toss.
Comes regret, comes
to us, and with it
arrives a deep wish to
hear the ladder people sing.
hans ostrom 2017
live ladder people.
They build tiny
fires and carry
hand-made ladders
to cliffs, perching
there for nights
and days, singing
to each other,
letting blue moths
alight on their hands.
These people of
the birch cones
decorate their ladders
and themselves with
paint and bits of string.
Comes a light rain.
The ladder people descend.
Comes a stiff breeze,
and birch limbs toss.
Comes regret, comes
to us, and with it
arrives a deep wish to
hear the ladder people sing.
hans ostrom 2017