Thursday, November 27, 2008

Karst

In a world of land walkers
where depths are greater than heights
where
"Because it's there"
keeps lashing me forward
I find myself again in the
heart of the middle of nowhere
Yangshuo County
counting out the last hour of being 23
the second consecutive birthday abroad
beside the best broad of my life
surrounded by the dog-eared pages
of climbing guides
and accounted memories
staring into the past
and reading about the future
yet I'm not the first here
I am one of the many few
that find this way in life
this path that doesn't end
yet isn't finished

I hear the click of karabiners
and the shuffle of rope bags
and try to squint far enough ahead
to see past the leaders

I've never heard a rock-drill
so I think about buying one
a battery, spare bits
and a pint of Guinness
I think about sharp edges
shallow pockets
pinches
and a desperate gaston
I produce a short film in my mind
and title it
The One That Wouldn't Go
wonder why we wish we could
but never do
I feel my palms sweat
and crack my knuckles
to remind myself that tendons are
stronger than bone
that if you pull hard enough
eventually the skeleton of doubt
will break
and rake my fingers through
a month's beard growth
the rest is in the first step forward
and these soles aren't yet worn through

1 comment:

juanita. said...

this reminded me why i love you.
not that i've ever forgotten, or anything.

climb time, climb time!