Two Bolts

Tom and I dangle eighty feet

    from the base of Big Bad Wolf

       like flies tangled in a spiderweb

From our perch above

    Red Rock Canyon

       sandstone metamorphosed

 

by season upon season of

    sun, wind, and rain

       undulates across the desert landscape

 

I try not to think about my aching toes

    and cramping feet

       balanced, as I am, on a

          three-inch protrusion of rock—

 

Some people say that

    because I climb I am amazing

       but I don't think so

Sure, I can swallow my fear

    when suspended from

       two shiny bolts bored into the rock

 

Bolts that could give way

    bolts that might amount to the difference

       between this life and the next—

 

But this does not make me amazing

Life on earth is a delicate balance

    tenuous, like this rope I'm hanging on,

       with the love of my life by my side

Tears well up

    and spill down my cheeks

       like precious drops of rain

Breathe, says Tom.