canary tramp

“Sometimes the Wind Can Sound Like a Waterfall”

you begin your ascent according to script

and for the right reason

somewhere between exercise and as an exercise

and

wisely, with no end goal, you’ve absorbed the Greats

“Be Here Now,” Bhagavan Das, mental floss

satisfied with breath with step with rice without the special sauce

until you heard it

roaring

you spun your azimuth

pursued the long hand

and exposed yourself lengthwise

soft underbelly

comp-ass

because

We All Want Something Beautiful

Steps be-labored now

past the point
of damaged return

false summits

disorientation

And

you got slapped with an indifferent and stinging gust

because you refused to acknowledge

that sometimes

the wind can sound like a waterfall