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Climbing
March 10, 2016
There's a certain peace in the rocks.
They may be coarse and unyielding,
but they provide the hand and foot holds
To protect you from a long fall
And how can you not,
At least grudgingly, respect them?
They cut your hands but
at the end of the day it only toughens them.
It's hard not to be grateful when
your life is on the line.
Steadfast and resolute,
They provide the only aid to your ascension.
This unexpected rapport only solidifies
as the slope steepens and
The fall grows longer. I consider myself
good friends with many of them.
© Karen P., Amherst, NY
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Ive spent a lot of time this year rock climbing and it inspired me to write this poem.