i progress alone

a pathway carefully chosen,
i traverse the ranges. i am a
gangly, uncreated
monstrosity without a harness,
and i have
unclipped safety hooks and
unwound nets that dance with air
that i might pirouette with ground.
i can do naught save sweep
and scale with strength in hopes
of removing myself to above
that which licks at my heels.

i am a disgrace
to alpinism at its finest
and a direct disobedience
to safety; i am singular in a
world where two were meant
to move together,
but i progress alone.

a nonchalant shoulder
cooly shifts a bag as
i breathe plumes in cold air
and move on.


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