CLIMBERS' CRIES

There's a sound in the wind
sometimes
of the cries of climbers who stopped
near the top of Mt. Everest
to catch their breath and feel the glow of the sun
and who didn't know that pausing would mean freezing
limbs instantly stiffened
from the outside in

I don't care about Mt. Everest
everyday life is thrilling enough for me
the rapture of opening mail
successfully
cooking wild salmon and
broccoli
gives me all the glow I need
But sometimes late at night
I hear the teary sighs of climbers
whose pause cost them their lives
and I shiver because
who hasn't felt strong among tall peaks
who hasn't let their eyes rest
for a moment
on the infinite beauty
of diamonds
and who hasn't begun to drift
suddenly
sadly
away