Image © Vertebrate Publishing
Dedicated to Peter Boardman and Joe Tasker; men brave enough to reach for more.
Above Hillary Step
In mornings breaking, cracking, golden rays
I feel no warmth beyond the icy cold.
It seems all heat has been stolen away
And I am left within this frigid hold.
My crisp chill breath, I see with frozen stare
As it hangs like a thin fog before me.
Oh what a surprise! This fire in the air!
But should I run away, escape and flee?
What fear have I against a chilling touch?
Don’t I know that a blazing torch will burn?
All my life others have told me this much
And these scars as proof, I have learned!
So why still does this numbness draw me near?
The scorch of summer sun should find me here.
Brandon Rushing, 2014