Waiting for Survival
A pebbly scree
crabwalks him within a dunk of fog.
He should not have climbed so early,
should have waited for a clear sky.
Disorientated,
a slogging momentum
keeps boots stumbling upward.
A swirling murk surrounds...
a sheer cliff edge confronts.
Sitting now on cold stones,
the climber waits to be rescued
by his own pale,
heavy breathing
shadow.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
