Mountains Have Two Sides

The rain stopped and the sun shook

A shoulder from a damp, mid-spring torpor

“Pack your bags,” it whispered

Hands complied, stuffing panniers with provisions

Strapped on a tent and a helmet and pointed west

Weather-stiffened legs cranking against gear and gravity

With each turn

City became suburb

Became tree and field

Became river and lake

Became mountain

“Where do you think you’re going?” it whispered

To weather-stiffened legs straining against gear and gravity

Again

Again

Again

Weather-stiffened legs heard and almost listened

But would not turn because

Mountains have two sides