Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Rob Schackne #258 - Knots


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.


  1. a great series idea
    one wants to keep climbing
    ... and to let down the rope

    1. 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 ...


    2. Or 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!)


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