Mountaineer
a Poem
The howling wind thrusts
snow-flakes
Through his garments into his flesh
Like steel shards of shrapnel
Piercing to the depths of his soul
Reflecting the brillance
Of the sun into his eyes
Like a polished mirror
The glacial ridge is unforgiving
White-out Blind is he
Confusion steals his mittens
Fingers clenched in a grotesque claw
Like carved from stone
He has no sensation in his feet
Toes frozen solid in his boots
With every ounce of his will
He commands his ice-legs
One step closer to her summit
She spurns her lover
And
Like a wild bronco
He is thrown from the mountain that he loves
The Mountaineer is dead.
Ice and snow is his coffin.
The mountain is his tombstone.
His eternal joy is the towering
Snow-capped peaks in
Our Father's kingdom
I see my Angel Guardian atop the summit now
finis
Photo Credit
Copyright © Petr Kratochvil
Used with permission
Public Domain Pictures dot net
Poem
Copyright © ralph Marie de largo
1st Sunday of Advent
2 December 2012
146 Words
