We went a couple of times.
Taking our weight up loose scree.
Our lives had spread and circled
so we brought our tongues together
for another crack. The heaviness
was in your back. I watched you bend
like a golf flag pole in low wind.
You carried so much I never thought
we would reach the top. Both of us
are two of the same breed.
But the walk down is where we differ.
I pick up speed and reach new heights,
you seem to slow, and bring the mountain
with you, as if you’re scared to feel weightless.
