The Lonely Summit by Francis Conlon

Francis Conlon | December 8th, 2023 | poetry | No Comments

Poet Bio

Cries are shouted: let’s be upward bound,
Gain the peak’s summit round,
Caution, now, on this place,
Nothing about but open space,
The precarious view does astound.

A steady push without slack.
Aggressive effort, naught held back,
The wind’s voice is so lonely,
The success is for one only,
No quarter given, no empty slack.

Now the descent is the call,
To more security without a fall,
Returning to earth must be alive,
The rightful climax to such a drive,
Mid whipping winds in this squall.

The passing is so transcendent,
Filled with colors resplendent,
I’ll dream later of this time spent,
That altered space of thought’s extent,
So high and no flight attendant.

Poet Bio

Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.

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