My Human Disguise.
I climbed a 50 foot stage house ladder.
It went straight up, made of bolted steel bar.
Halfway up I couldn't have gone madder.
My hands turned to sweat as I saw how far
I would fall. I was certain I had dreamed
Last night of this moment, how I had seemed,
Like now, unable to move. My hands slipped.
I threw one arm over and hugged a rung
And for more than a lifetime there I hung.
Somehow I got down, my sanity gripped.
Thus, the fact of a goat’s sure-footed hooves
On the steepest mountainside seems unreal.
Is it all a matter of reach and feel?
Or is it only the goat’s mind that moves?
