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in this issue
Marin Sorescu
Ladder to HeavenA silken thread, spun by a spider
Hangs from the ceiling
Just above my bed.
Day by day I watch it descend.
And think, 'now heaven offers me ladder,
It reaches to me from above'.
Weakened though I be,
A shadow of my former self,
I think the ladder might not
Support my weight.
Listen, my soul, on you go ahead,
Softly, softly.
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