In These Interesting Times
I am anywhere but here
I roll and I rise
I climb and I keep climbing
And up here, in these interesting times
These times don’t seem so interesting as this field, and that wall, and the thin line that veers off to the right, and up.
Where water runs thin and disappears underground.
The trees are behind me now and even the sheep,
with their pins and needles,
don’t bother coming this far up.
Where only people draw lines through the heather.
My legs and my lungs want me to stop and sit, but I keep going.
Breathing hard, open-mouthed, I taste salt.
And in these interesting times, I keep going until I plateau.
The sky is everything.