Climbing

Oh the view, up here you can see the world Distance so much of it, no end of it And down! Oh down, it is so far away We came from there, son and me On rope sure, strapped in harness, metal kit A protection we tried to ignore A team we made from start to here Fingers feeling for holds, each tiny hold Skin on cold rock, each little cleft Toes seeking to perch if only for a moment Challenging yes, moments when the heart skips Nervous laughs, care to throw me a crab, a friend, a sling? Words so funny, but might save our lives Each in turn we lead a pitch, playing out rope Not father or son, a pair, each skilled, sharing the delight Sharing the little fears, sometimes the comedy of a slipped hand or foot Laughing it away with shaky voice Up and up, we move, crawling on a vertical plane Breeze, fresh, open and such freedom Two tiny figures in a joined endeavor As fingers curl over the edge of the slab As son pulls up to the top Then we stand, together excited, proud From up here we can see the world Picón de Jeres, Andalucía 2010