Matthew Caretti

With Each Step

It is not the mountains we conquer but ourselves.
~ Sir Edmund Hillary

Today four times fourteen thousand feet. There is truth in the mountains . . .

Democrat
muted greetings
at first light

. . . along the rocky trails. Where pika nibble at the verge.

soon Cameron
great north winds
scouring all

. . . atop the highest peaks. Here all is reduced to breath.

ragged Lincoln
old mines crumble
as we pass

. . . in the beards of the men who abide there. Those who know the joy of the journey . . .

Bross’s arm
a nimble descent
to lake shores

. . . and of the return.

the first boot
then the second
burnished souls