The Climb.

Photo by Martin Adams

Enjoy the climb!

Thank You!

Feathers turn to ice.

Bright banner waving proudly
over the snowy mountain peak.
It’s shining like a golden beacon,
illuminating path that’s bleak.

This climb is treacherous and deadly,
cold licking frozen skin,
piercing with the thorns of ice,
cutting deep towards the warmness of the flesh,
devouring precious heat,
leaving nothing for dessert.

Those headless winds,
always rushing to someplace,
swinging tiny body in the air,
like some pendulum for ancient clock.

Feathers turn to ice.
Wings, like some heavyweights
pulling closer to rocks.

No cheating over here,
only real courage and the spirit,
forcing muscles to comply.

Reach the top.

Please let me know what you think of the poem on Twitter @FischerVladimir

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