This is not metaphorical
Or symbolic.
There are no literary devices at play today.
This, just was.
I found myself with nothing to do.
So I decided to take myself up the mountain.
There were no friends to make the climb social,
There was no purpose or goal to meet.
It was just something to do
To fill some time.
And something to do
That sounded like a good idea.
I went to the base and saw clouds in the far distance.
I went up the mountain
Hoping to sit and write
Or sit and draw
Or sit and breathe.
Because sitting on top of a mountain,
Alone,
Is better than sitting on the couch,
Alone.
Even,
When you are standing on top of the mountain
And the clouds envelope you.
and
The storm wraps it’s self around you.
If this was a brilliant literary piece
I would say I embraced the storm.
But
Because this is just about what was,
The truth needs told.
I turned
And ran like hell down the mountain.
