Climbing Everest In My Shoes.

I don’t need

to scale Everest

to know how difficult

it would be

to take each step,

to go

and place my tiny feet

in the

crisp white snow

and icy domain

and not fall to my death.


I don’t need

to swim the Atlantic

from the steps

of Cornish past

to the shore of New Jersey

and sit breathless

on the jetty and water weeds

of Benny’s Landing

to know how

take in a lung full of salt and knotted

seaweed with each stroke.


I don’t need

to traverse through the terrifying

jungle with its creatures

planning to eat me alive,

to bite and scratch, fill

me with disease, to understand,

too know

that such pastimes,

such whims of fancy

are dangerous and run the risk

of obliteration…



there are some in the world

who believe

they can tell you what to do,

that get a kick out

of running you down,

who casually place obstacles

in your way as strive to reach

the pinnacle of what you can be,

that add the weight of water to your back

or simply

place vines and tie you in knots…


I don’t need to climb Everest

to see

that the Earth and its people

are often misshaped.


Ian D. Hall 2016