To reach the peak, up and up,
A stressful reach to get up there,
With breath so thin is the air,
A misstep and a fall abrupt.
The prize a mountainous monolith,
Reaching high through winds of force,
The world below is a divorce.
“Because it’s there” and is no myth.
Each climber entered into a cloud,
And, missing ‘til remains found in ‘99,
Torn clothes remained like a shroud.*
Did they make the top in time,
With hope and vision unbowed,
While changing to a spirit form sublime?
* George Mallory, June 18, 1886-June 2024, North Face, Mt. Everest
Andrew “Sandy” Irving, April 8, 1902-June 1924, North Face, Mt. Everest
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.