Climbing in the Mountains

A Lilibonelle



Climbing in the Mountains



The echoes of my daughter still fondle the frigid air.
The snow crackles crisply underneath my boots.
A chill slaps my face, reddening up my cheeks.
Overhead a chipmunk critiques my strange appearance.

The echoes of my daughter still fondle the frigid air.
They're just a memory, and I give a long, sad sigh,
For she's far away -- somewhere with her father,
While I traipse through snow up this lonely trail.

The snow crackles crisply underneath my boots.
Its powder lies thick and solid, a skier’s delight,
But in patches, my feet sink low and hit bare stone.
I breathe in deeply, and exhale baby dragon breath.

Overhead a chipmunk critiques my strange appearance
He hangs from a pine branch, his tail a fluff of fur.
“Thank you for your comments,” I whisper to him softly,
Then continue up the mountain on my solitary hike.

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