Monday, June 11, 2018


    They’re angry.  So am I.
    Why don’t they add that
    As well?  I climbed higher
    Than any they’d seen,
    Solo too – no one holding
    My ropes – just me finding
    The random crevice,
    The little indentation
    For fingers and thumb.
    “But you’ve never joined!”
    They’d said.  “It doesn’t
    Matter what you do. 
    And you don’t exist unless
    We say so.  Forget

    Your climbing gear!”  I
    Kept to myself from then on,
    Wrote my poems in places
    They’d never find, but
    The gods were not
    Amused.  One fall
    Was all they’d give me.

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