Ox Mountains

Initially a heavy snow laden yomp;
Ever upwards with hope.
Air thins,
Life below disappears beneath stinging, wintry clouds.

Wind rushes silence away.
Climbing, chapped hands and lips.
Stabbing the rocks, heaving ever upwards.
The risk of failing or falling,
Hope driving forwards.

Fatigue, icy pain pushing back.
The summit is reached.
Beyond lies a taller mountain, beckoning.

By
Valkyriekerry Kelly

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