Undertow — poetry by Andrew
"Everest Muses"
© 2004 Val Conder
They never bring the dead down.
Long I dwelt unknown, five miles
Of stone and snow, cloaked in mystery,
towering into the skies.
Then men came. Some dwelt
In my shadow. Others sought
To scale me if they could
and stand upon my crown,
because I am here, wrapped
in a mantle of snow, a cape
of clouds, where with icy hands,
clawing, chilling, clutching wind
plucks the warmth from trespassers,
toys with the trash
they dare leave behind,
its savage music a requiem
mourning those who will never leave.
Oh little mites,
I can be surmounted,
but do not underestimate me.
My siren call reaches out
To all who have spirit.
And they come,
Pitting flesh, bone,
and pulsing blood
Against stone, ice,
And carving cold
Some succeed.
Some… I allow to leave.
* * *
other writings: Background Quiz Andrew and Rio Andrew and Bleys "Everest Muses" Undertow log "About that Avatar thing...", Unicorn's Avatar?, Ebb Tide log