Shaking heartbeats vibrate my ribcage
the purple mountains, stoic and neutral, watch this mortal struggle
The cantaloupe alpenglow settles the magic hour debate
30 feet above me, He hangs casually in his harness, smiling down
“Come bring me that pail of water”, he urges my insides to smile
The hell with my ego
I’m starving, and this humble pie satiates my deep- belly pride
Why do I do this? I hate this.
Did I yell that through the canyon?
Briefly I pan out of my body
The soundtrack to my jagged upward haul is laced with expletives from
some deep, guttural wolf inside of my throat.
How it squeezes my toes.
How my head space breathes bigger to make room for mind maneuvers
How my hair catches in this belay device
A sharp knife cuts me free
Adrenaline fuels this rappel
Crack a celebratory beer on the dusty ground. My chalky fingernails barely grip the tab.
The cold rush of bubbles remind me that this is being present.
I watched in the truck side mirror on the drive home
my bruised and battered hands surf the night thermals
living on the razors edge.
That was fun, he says. Wanna do it again tomorrow?