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Something New

Tree Line

There’s this thing that happens when you get this high
and come to the place where the rock is bare

You turn for the first time and look back down
into the mist where even memory is blind

And you try to make out the shape of the path
the pattern that was hidden in ten thousand steps

You feel the cold squeezing in to fill your core
and the air growing thinner breath by breath

You hear the whispers and wails of the wind
the voices calling you back to the path

So you turn again, lift your eyes to the peak
to the cold, hard white of the icy rock

and you climb towards the sunset
and the pale blue sky


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