The Climbers of Mount Everest
The climbers take their craggy steps
and let the mountain pull them
There are motors in play, but there are no wheels
To turn things around on this narrow ledge
*
Come morning, the breath of the mountain
is scaled
I hear the climbing dreams,
The iron war tools jabbing
*
The mountain begins at the summit
Where the elevation breaks off
and evaporates
Like the viscera of the dead
In the thin air of the sun