On Reaching the Summit of Mt. Jo
Breathing in pine and sweet damp earth
Sweat pouring down to foster my rebirth
Heart crying out to escape my chest
Pleading with Katie for "one more rest"
Nearing the top, trees grow less dense
--I am blessedly in the present tense--
Scraping up walls of rock and mud
(Remnants of yesterday's fleeting flood)
Collapsing in joy on the sun-baked peak
My spirit is soaring; my body quite weak
We whisper and laugh, so glad for a friend
There is nothing like Placid to make my soul mend.
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