ladders

from the clouds
the first ladder came down on monday.
it was wooden 
with evenly spaced rungs. 
we came to stare at where
its long length touched the ground 
in the parking lot behind
our apartment. from streets away 
you could see it like
a line pointing into the sky.
the farther away, the thinner 
the ladder looked. i drove
to the grocery store & saw 
the ladder just as a faint thread.
the children took turns
climbing up halfway & i remember
my father setting up a ladder 
in the living room to change light bulbs.
the moment he left 
the wobbly old ladder unattended 
my brother & i climbed all over.
my dream was to stand on top
& feel taller than everyone.
the next day there were more:
three up the street. i took pictures 
with my iPhone just like everyone else.
this is what we do when we are not sure
how to feel about what we're seeing.
now the scientists & the priests came.
they peered up to gleam 
how far up the ladder went.
some started to conject it might
lead to heaven. others suspected
the ladders of temptation. the scientists
assured us the ladder were not real.
they insisted no such device could
stand so tall & upright. hammering 
the rungs they tried to dismantle 
the ladder to no avail. out my window
i watched a boy climb far too high
on one of the ladders. i prayed hard
he would fall. he did not fall 
& i convinced myself my prayers were
effecting change. i prayed all the time.
i prayed to know where the ladders went.
i was drunk with visions 
of climbing them. more came each morning.
when one appeared right outside 
my apartment's door i knew i was being
summoned. to where? i asked myself
what my father would do. his hands 
were thick & callous. sometimes i suspected
he might be made of wood. i didn't 
hold him enough to be sure. i walked
under the ladder collecting years 
of back luck. more came each day.
all down the street & yet somehow
no one had climbed higher
than the tops of the buildings.
airplanes avoided collision. 
satelittes could not see them from space.
some of us begun to worship them,
begging the ladders to carry us all
somewhere new. i imagine heaven as 
at least a new color than here.
i ate ice cream alone & thinking about
the ladders. i knew my father would
never climb into heaven 
even if given the chance. i considered how
in the end it might be just
him & i on earth. i want to tell him
about the ladders but i don't.
i can't think of 
how to explain them to someone 
not here. not witnessing them.
all night i tried to work up
the courage to climb. i told myself
here is your chance. there could be
something beautiful. i couldn't budge.
in the morning the ladders were gone.
we pretended they never occured
maybe out of sadness or maybe 
the rush of the world just reentered
our bodies. i will call my father soon 
& ask him if he's changed 
the lightbulbs lately.