She grits her teeth
mouth-ful of sharp sand
muscle solid heft against the dead-weight of effort
traces of bitter sweat
impossible to see beyond or through the dense grey hugeness
massive concretion of rock
hard to guage distances ahead
Inch by tortuous inch
Neck, back, body taut and straining, shouldering the boulder
knotted in spasm
She finds brief respite in fantasies of weightlessness
of flight and freedom
- hollow bones, feathery wings, soaring in clear blue sky
- swift silvery fish gliding cool in silky water
Could she simply step aside, leave the boulder crashing down alone?
Would she be crushed in its path, left damaged incomplete?
Should they ever reach the top, then what? how would it be?
Views from a summit, at rest.
slack, relaxed, gazing at distant horizons?
a stable place to lean her back?
Some build on rocks
Some are crushed by them.