CHEATING
DEATH
Climbing: On the
edge, pushing limits. Higher and higher, my world is air and a slippery ridge
of ice covered rock. My head swims in exposure, as my vertical dance takes me
closer...
Snow: Deep and heavy, never ending, mile after mile after mile. Thick
as quick sand embracing my legs. Each exhausting step cements me further into
the mountainside. Think light, sink less. If only I could fly…
The
summit: A brief victory in a hostile place.
Late in the day, dark and cold. So far from home, so far from the life I know…
The
wind: Screaming, suffocating, unforgiving.
Ears stinging, eyes tearing. Not a good day to die. Not a good day to die…
Descending: Hour after hour after hour. Joints aching, lungs burning as I
stumble past each tombstone of rock. They are watching me, searching for my
weaknesses. I will not stop. I will not give up...
Hypothermia:
Cold...Cold…
I wrote this poem after a day long ordeal in hurricane force winds in the Presidential Range of New Hampshire in mid winter.
No comments:
Post a Comment