Our Honeymoon Adventure Continues
*******
Climbing the Presidential Range
*******
We’d climbed Mount Washington on our honeymoon,
A joyous ascent with views for sixty miles.
But now we slowly edged our way along
The western slopes and ridges of Jefferson.
When one-third up she grumbled, “It’s so hot!”
Although I felt my shirt was glued to my back,
My pants to my legs, I climbed without a word.
When halfway up she murmured, “I’m so tired!”
My winter desk-easy legs ached like hers.
.
We stopped for lunch and watched the cog train chug
The heights of Washington and tiny black
Ants run along a mile of highway below.
When two-thirds up she muttered, “Let’s go down.
Why should we climb to the top when our legs ache?”
“Because it’s there.”
“But we have seen the views.
Why should we climb to the top across these dull slopes?”
“Because it’s there. The views are in all directions.”
.
We both enjoyed the summit’s scenes, with her
Resting, her thoughts ascending like a cloud,
Gliding across the heart of Washington.
Jefferson stood as tall as Adams next door,
But Washington presided over all.
I stood with the best of them atop the cairn.
.
The years had transformed one hike into two treks,
For she can only delight, but I must conquer.