Lunch of Summer Sausage and Processed Cheese


Sleep is evasive, interrupted by coyotes
We slowly rise, tempted by the promise of a bland breakfast
Held back by the embrace of the sleeping bag
Suffering together in the cold
Huddling like penguins waiting for the sun

We set off, laden with a beast’s burden
Eyes glued to the precipitous slope
Yearning for a moment

Suppressing our exhaustion
False summits are old friends, we’ve never been closer than today
We reach a wall, push aside the quilt of branches
Marching forward, ever onward

The promise of the top is one of rest
An assurance that things will get easier
Yet we rise unbounded like the birds above,
Suddenly we arrive

Now I wish the struggle had been longer,
I barely remember the rest.