I let the poetry climb
the heavy metal ladder,
sit at the top and watch her feet dangle.
She looks to the tops of trees,
the hazy blue gray sky and the clouds
then lowers her eyes to the earth, the sand
pit at the bottom, the brown sered grass,
the barely babbling, almost dry creek
below the field of dead soy beans
on the neighbor’s farm. She loosens her grip
on the railing, extends and stretches her chubby
arthritic fingers as flabby arms reach
for her sight’s ceiling.  All of a sudden a-rat-a-tap-tap
on the tin sounding steel dances
out from under her pedal extremeties
and she lets words jump, like my little brown
and white dog when she chases thunder,
before my hazel eyes. The faster words fly
from her to my brain to my fingers to keys to the page
on the computer the more united we become.
We inch forward, closer, closer, closer, get ready,
escapes from our wide open mouth
as we plummet down the slippery slide
to the bottom where our Bertha butt
hits the soft landing pad of LexPoMo’s
final few glory hours for 2017.
tha-tha-that’s all folks  

Good night all. Everyone poems have been great, the conversations excellent, the open mic and free books a so sad you missed or great to be among peers event. Thank you Rabbit Catastrophe Press, Workhorse, Katerina Stoyklova, Bronson O’Quinn, Robin LeMer Rahija, Christopher McCurry and everyone who has a hand in keeping poetry alive and thriving in Lexington, KY. 
Until next time be well and prosper.