Object writing
Day one.
Here goes.
Sky - five minutes
White clouds floatabove the mountains.
Unmoving,
both the mountains and the clouds.
There must not be much wind today.
Yesterday the clouds left the mountains behind,
Today they are blotches on a blue sky.
Specks of snow on the mountain
amid the trees.
Pine, my nose itches as I remember
the smell.
How I wish I could still climb that high,
to where the snow doesn't melt until summer.
My feet slippng on the ice,
thighs burning from the climb,
worrying about how to get down
safely.
Listening to the wind,
It sounds different up there,
Sharper on my face.
Louder, a dull roar through my wool hat
stretched over my ears.
