Gullies dammed on
Ice-falls raged
And bubbled.
These were troubled
Times, and cold--
Chipping footholds where
Streams overflowed
And froze into
Unforgiving glass.
A dozen times we
Lost our footing
On the pass and
Slid grasping what
Grew through --a
Foolish hike,
Winter too.
Yosemite through the seasons has always been a joy for me. Back when I started Stylus student magazine at EGHS, we had an end-of-the-year Yosemite trip for the staff and adult advisor each year for several years. One year, the principal's secretary was so achey from our hiking that she had to be carried into the school office by her husband from their car in front of the school. That's only one memory that this poem brings back....
ReplyDeleteHa! The hike inspiring poem's imagery came from an idiotic trip my brother and I took in 1963, in WINTER. Were we less agile and lucky you might have carried our frozen remains indoors with the poor achey secretary. As I rcall, the main summer threat was bears, and the few I encountered were polite. But whatever season, to the young, the scenery is worth the risks.
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