The Seat

Crackles and ice sheets
Rumpled lands
Carved paths
Of many feet

Sun shafts
Slivers of steel
Soft grass
Stick in the heel

Stop here
See there
Chest sharp
Sweat dries

Cold creeps
Fingers deep
Push on
And on

The top is near
Farther than that
But near still
To hear the rant

The wind shrieks
The crows float
Caught in jets
Of Air flow

Flat rocks and not
Melted smooth by feet
Years of ascent
Endless views