It looms
I am buried in its shadow
It moves not
Towards me, but I towards
It is unscalable
I teeter a mere inch off the ground
But that inch is hard-earned
I reach above my head
Fingers balancing on a narrow rock shelf
And pull.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
It looms
I am buried in its shadow
It moves not
Towards me, but I towards
It is unscalable
I teeter a mere inch off the ground
But that inch is hard-earned
I reach above my head
Fingers balancing on a narrow rock shelf
And pull.