I received the postcard you sent,
with the photography of the
mountains, snow capped and
covered in orange.
You cannot rush the sun, can
you? The sun sets its own pace,
and has its own rhythms and
cycles. The sun changes for no
one unless somehow, we just
haven't figured out its rules
and laws.
I received your photograph in
the most unexpected way, and
I didn't know how much I needed
it.
YOU ARE READING
SUMMIT
PoetryHello there, ambitious climber. Welcome to this prose-poetry chapbook called "SUMMIT". This prose-poetry chapbook explores decision making in high-stakes situations, immense loss and grief, and choosing to reach the summit in spite of all the obstac...
