Poem by Jeff Burt
Climbing to trim the plum, I step on the highest rung of the quivering ladder, then withdraw, danger expressed in the raised letters of warning-- Not A Step. But to place one foot and then another, to climb to the level your shins have lost a bar to brace against, to face without fear-- this must be the power that preachers and prophets feel, that electric rush of instability atop pyramid or mountain, that choice between balance below and zealous ascension. And so I reach. I curl my fingers around a greening branch and test that highest rung without placing weight, and with my hand planted surely around the tether of the plum, sense that I am safe, though I do confess to headiness, like sitting on a three-legged stool after a couple of drinks when the floor swells and breaks beneath. Do I dare try the highest step? The honest truth is that I tried, I tried still connected to earth through that darting plum branch and felt released, and when I let go and stood for one moment, not more, untethered, hands out and imploring air for balance, I was not free, I was blinded by the fear of falling, I was blinded by the fear of flying. I have learned my rung of comfort and I have learned my sense of truth, the difference in what I can hear and the difference in what I will speak. I know now how far I can climb. I could tell you what I saw that moment I stood on the final rung untied to earth, I could tell you grand visions and I could tell you gripping stories and I could tell you of tragedy and pathos and anger and of love overwhelming, bitterness removed, that I joined blackbirds swarming in joyous routes unready to land, but the truth, the honest truth is I saw nothing, remember only the comfort of my left foot touching the second rung down and my right foot right behind it.
Jeff Burt lives in Santa Cruz County, California, and has worked in electronics and mental health administration. He has worked in Consequence Magazine, Williwaw Journal, Rabid Oak, and contributed to many others.
1 thought on “One Rung Down”
What an amazing visual poem. I felt the heady anticipation, and then the fear. I can definitely identify with this poem. I feel this poem could also be referencing a lot of other aspects of life. Well done.