wheeze

∴ storming thru crags
offering climbs
of jagged complexity
each flash cheered
by frogs’ chorus, springy birds

no pause midst chalky puffs
hands reach into the realm of sends
persistence unyielding, willed
by love for vertical meditation

ascents ignite
across, through
the lattice
of my body electric

conquering routes with pure psyche
now toasted, nearly wheezing
on the last crux of this virgin line

where the final burn leads
to a fumble, a whip, a fail
Laid Out, faded, wickedly pumped
grasping barely at reality
grounded beneath the final top-out
peeled off, averting decking

not a conquest this day
a puzzle yet eludes
projecting, brewing deep in my mind

pondering still and
chilling, contemplating
engaged in Question and Answer
with my feathered guide
pursue?, pursue!, pursue?, pursue! ∴¹

1. I took some poetic liberties with the ‘Peter, Peter, Peter’ call of the tufted titmouse. It emanated from somewhere in the trees, and though I never actually caught sight of it, I could distinctly hear its call. ↩︎