I was a climber
sure for many years
and most adept with ropes
which when left alone
would gather themselves
into amazingly complex knots
ten or fifteen minutes worth
breathing softly nutting out the problem
I remembered my grandmother
how her ties always came
undone like buttered bread
but the crag was there waiting
while my partner fidgeted
and it was my turn to lead
a rope that was only a little furry
what a system that all was
burdened with strained forces
angles bent in carabiners
meaning overhung on a hot wall
where there was surely none
rechecking my knots and anchors
pumped up and out in the desert sun
feeling the chains around my heart
bruised fingers and feet against the rock
one last foolish run-out on a blank face
and afterwards no victory as I recoiled my rope.
a great series idea
ReplyDeleteone wants to keep climbing
... and to let down the rope
it is a nice remembering of some hiking I made with friends .... I was sooooooooooo young and my friends sooooo bold!! But as a dancer I didn't risk too much to wound my feet or legs ...
Delete
DeleteOr just memories now
that we survived them
and most excesses forgiven
(although running the rope out
on that last grade 20 pitch
for 5 meters was inexcusable!)