I walked the ridge
solo,
downward
into the squall,
battling hail
with ice-brick hands,
the rain pummeled
me below the alpine line
all the way to my nylon abode.
I wish I were still there,
it was joy.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
I walked the ridge
solo,
downward
into the squall,
battling hail
with ice-brick hands,
the rain pummeled
me below the alpine line
all the way to my nylon abode.
I wish I were still there,
it was joy.
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