Andrew’s Mt Warning Climb

When I went up the mountain,

I took it slow.

My wife was away.

I knew she wanted to climb it too

but I heard a friend was going up

with her two little kids.

I grabbed my chance.

They, I thought, would surely

take an easy pace.

The friend had done her research,

told me what to wear,

and what to bring

in the way of food and water.

We started nice and early.

The way up was easy enough. 

We didn't rush.

Only the last part,

steep, with a chain,

was a challenge —

but if they could do it, I could.

And we did.

Not much view from the top.

There was mist.

This is a mountain

often surrounded by cloud.

But I was glad I got there.

It was the achievement,

something to cross off my list

of things to do while I still had life.

And you know, if I'd waited,

I might never have done it.

My wife never did.

The time was not quite right

or she was too busy, or ...

and one day she realised

she was too old, too arthritic,

she'd missed her opportunity.

Coming down was the real challenge.

Hard on the old legs.

Before we were even half way,

my thighs had turned to jelly.

The others were feeling it too.

I suppose we should have trained

before we did it, but oh well,

we did get down eventually.

It was already getting dark.

Poetic Asides November Poem A Day Chapbook Challenge: Write about visiting a place, from someone else's perspective.

(I feel this is a pretty bad first draft but, with a busy week ahead, I must press on. It'll have to do for now.)