Climbing Jacob's Ladder

Author(s): Scott Hightower

Source: Callaloo, Vol. 32, No. 1, Celebrating Texas Writers, Part 1 (Winter, 2009), p. 181
Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press
Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/27655076
Accessed: 23-05-2019 04:36 UTC

JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms

The Johns Hopkins University Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and
extend access to Callaloo

This content downloaded from 132.248.9.8 on Thu, 23 May 2019 04:36:04 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
 CLIMBING JACOB'S LADDER

by Scott Hightower

The spiritual is caught in a spiral,

a repeating rattle in my
grandparents' "squirrel cage."

Come summer, all creatures

need a little cool relief. Each visit,
I nap on the floor in front of the fan.
The ironed face of the pillow's crisp
cotton case is slick and cool on my cheek.
The heat is an untied shock of waves
tossed on the shiny blond wood floor.
My ears take up the fan's repeton.
We are climbing Jacob's ladder ....

Now, in the North, I groom

young writers. The night walk home,
the old gospel of an invisible companion,
and the news that a dear friend's
Orthodox father seems
to have a worn out valve
all drag like a floppy sandal.

All things find their rhythm. My coat

and gloves are leather. My scarf,
expensive wool. My grandmother,
who insisted that we buck up
and find our way through,
would hum to me, . ..soldiers of the cross.

Callaloo 32.1 (2009) 181

This content downloaded from 132.248.9.8 on Thu, 23 May 2019 04:36:04 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms