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drljefe
climber
El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
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May 15, 2016 - 11:42pm PT
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some days it's like a punch in the stomach,
sleep that won't leave your eyes,
a heavy rock hidden inside your backpack.
but the thing about grief,
it's also like a rainbow.
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85
Mountain climber
Washington
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Topic Author's Reply - May 19, 2016 - 06:56am PT
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Strong work. Randomness is taking a journey that has no plans left. What a lovely way you have addressed loss . . . You surprise me with level 3 joy!
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Marlow
Sport climber
OSLO
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May 19, 2016 - 11:07am PT
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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May 19, 2016 - 12:27pm PT
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New Mexico.
Back there, back down there. Back past the crooked collapsing fence, back past the old juniper. The smell of sage fills my nose and my thoughts wander back there. Down the long dusty road, pitted with years and memories. Potholes growing greater with faded days...
Back there, past the ghost of my uncle's dog, curled up under the old pomegranate tree that was old when I was born. Back to the creaking rotted porch that my grandmother sat on after a long day of chopping, cutting, digging, washing, kneading. I can still smell the fresh bread and look forward to the taste of honey.
Back there past the tattered door curtain to look at the broken windows, where the wooden pallet bed was, where grandma read me stories about faraway lands, and brave men. Through the deep desert dust across the floor, the floor she kept so clean.
Back there, across the room, to the western wall, her favorite window. The dry grass sways softly outside, in the deepening purple evening, and the real sound of insects, brings distant echoes of children's laughter, and adults talking late into the night.
Through the branches of the tired cottonwood, the sunset looks the same.....
Thanks for the inspiration Jefe.
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drljefe
climber
El Presidio San Augustin del Tucson
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May 19, 2016 - 12:59pm PT
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Dang dude.
Thank you- that was beautiful.
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survival
Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
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May 19, 2016 - 01:21pm PT
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(smiley shrugging emoticon)
Zuni, the pueblo I went to school in:
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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May 19, 2016 - 01:25pm PT
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85
Mountain climber
Washington
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Topic Author's Reply - May 31, 2016 - 09:01pm PT
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Memorial Day,
Wire brush duct taped to a broken branch,
I'm scrubbing key holds and tearing off moss
To reveal a new shelf. Clean grey stone.
New problems! Just tying the laces on these old
shoes means some small celebration, marked by
sweat and chalk. Marked by time. This is how
I remember. A ritual that remains mysterious.
Don't have to think, I only have to do it,
the results are always perfect, even when
I flail, and struggle, and cuss, and peel.
One fine day it just . . . Might . . . Go
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originalpmac
Mountain climber
Anywhere I like
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May 31, 2016 - 10:43pm PT
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Good stuff Survival. Could almost smell the juniper.
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MisterE
Gym climber
Small Town with a Big Back Yard
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May 31, 2016 - 10:49pm PT
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originalpmac
Mountain climber
Anywhere I like
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Jul 20, 2016 - 12:57am PT
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thebravecowboy
climber
The Good Places
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Jul 20, 2016 - 07:51pm PT
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3.25 hrs c2c after work
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