I found my poem

hiking up the Rocky Mountain path with me.

It starts to sweat as we hike higher and higher

Steps getting steeper and steeper.

It whips around as it hears

The dull splash of a far away waterfall.

I sweat as well

Feeling my pink volleyball shirt get a little damp.

“Are you good to go on?”

My cousins says with no sweat or heavy breathing.

I push forward,

Sweating and breathing heavily.

I find my poem scurry up the mountain

All the way to the top

Where fresh crisp air can be smelt,

A cool breeze passes through our sweaty clothes,

And a wooden cross stands upright

To symbolize that we have made it to the top.

Once at the top,

My poem and I look around, admiring the view.

Lakes glisten as the sun hits them,

Shiny gray rocks are sprawled out everywhere

seemingly being untouched.

We take a deep breath in

And a deep breath out

As we prepare for the journey

Down the mountain.