Mountains

I climb

with friend

up up up

till the mossy green

yields to patchy snow

and blowing winds.

The tracks ahead

fill with drifting snow

the pass is near.

And as we stand

in ankle-deep whiteness

just missing the liquid fire

but still seeing glowing embers

of an extinguished sun

I can't help but to look

and follow the ridgeline.

There are mountains to climb.