eclipse Posted August 16, 2014 Share Posted August 16, 2014 I am fixed here on this peak like awax tear on a candle, the climber abovedoes not hear me or mercury calling,he tempts the primal rocky plume to approveour advance, which one of us is frozenin this tear on my eyelash, for death iceis the most valid currency given.To scale a rose thorn by thorn; a cornicecrown is blown, we arm wrestle winds-erectinga tent, the testing ascent marinates theprimitive scent of coruscating fear. Springon the mountain, I dream of winter's spreeof sunshine on the country lanes where Ilive and walk planning journeys with my ally. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Benjamin Posted August 19, 2014 Share Posted August 19, 2014 Fascinating subject matter in a piece you have left open to interpretation. I liked "we arm wrestle winds- erecting a tent," the subtle use of in-line rhymes and enjambment works well for me . I also found a relative comfort to identify with in the contrast of your last three lines..."I dream of winter's spree etc." I read today (Mont Blanc) that 20 men and women have been killed since the climbing season started. B. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eclipse Posted August 31, 2014 Author Share Posted August 31, 2014 thanks benjamin Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
badger11 Posted September 4, 2014 Share Posted September 4, 2014 Don't usually likes such words hanging on the end of a line - a/the/I - but it seems appropriate here - the sense of the precipice. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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