They say there’s a ridge,

Near the summit of Mount Everest, Where one false step, can lead to disaster. One mistake…and all is lost…

In a smashing, sliding, slashing, bashing fall, a tempest tossed,

Down along, steep, icy, rocky, slope, 10 thousand feet on one side,

12 thousand feet on the other, landing in different countries! Landing in a rock/snow encrusted tomb below,

Perhaps never to be found,

Celebrated in memory only, no remains remaining,

To give solace to the family, friends and loved ones.

 

Crevasses must be traversed.

Pitons must he set.

Boots must be firmly fixed, forging forward, carefully, slowly,

Along the razor-edge, risky top of that perilous ridge,

That narrow, threatening bridge. . .to the top of the world.

 

Copyright Gerald Driessen All Rights Reserved, 2005

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