Looking at a photo of me looking back
Looking over my shoulder at the camera
Sitting on a boulder with a pack on my back
Looking out at the view from the heights.
The boy is pleased with himself being there
Climbing the mountains of New Hampshire
Achieving the summit of Mount Washington
Proving himself capable of challenging hikes.
I had not seen this photo in almost 60 years
Though I remember it well having studied every detail
Since I used it to draw a self-portrait in pastels
Getting good results blending vivid colors.
That drawing was discarded along with all my things
Left behind in the house of my childhood
But the memory of the image stayed with me
Never forgetting being there above the treeline.
In my imagination I often go back to retrace the climb
Remembering the trail from the base camp up and up
Stepping on exposed roots on the worn trail
Following a streambed then endless switchbacks.
We were already tired when we stopped for lunch
Before the steep ascent up the wall of Tuckerman Ravine
Getting hot and sweating though there was snow in the bowl
Then cresting the shoulder onto the cold windswept plain.
Above us the rock cone of the summit beckoned more effort
Struggling up from cairn to cairn scrambling over boulders
Resting to catch my breath and summon another burst
This mountain so rugged higher than I had ever climbed.
Waiting for everyone to make it to the top
Then descending in giant steps to Lakes of the Clouds
Passed by the hut boys loaded down with supplies
Going to the AMC shelter for our overnight stay.
Such a good memory to come back around
When I was on the verge of becoming my own person
When the horizon was distant and anything was possible
There for me to go and do whatever I liked.
