Two Mountains
The clamber beats me up.
Now I have to heel slide
down a scree covered ravine
while trying to ignore the sweat of panic.
Half-way down
there’s a large smooth boulder,
I hug it
slow my breathing,
stop battling the mountainside.
Rock Ravens
circle a compass of warm air,
ascend and drop
with hardly a wingbeat.
It’s then I recall
that there are two mountains here,
one under my feet
the other
I brought with me
as a tower of doubt.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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