The tread up was quick,
Read my map before we
Stopped for a picnic
Kicking rocks, picking leaves
Eating berries on the trees
Incline and decline but nothing
We couldn’t face with ease
T’was a breeze

But at the top...
When we stopped,
When the mountain grew red
And the thunder below us
Causing sweat beads to shed
And hopefulness fled
We looked to each other
And cried
As my face and bones vulcanized
Of the bubbling magma
The struggling stagnant stance
Of our feet betraying us,
Standing nonplussed
Breathing croaky and gruff
I huff,
You hum

What have we done