Up The Mountain

The mountain cares not for the climber,
it will not mourn, nor notice
such a small death,
such a little thing as
the burying of a man.
The mountain cares not for the widow,
the mother, is deaf to the
steaming tears of the father,
the mountain is not
moved by a loss, nor
will it be defaced by a grave,
no, the mountain will splash
down a fresh coat of whitewash
and bury all
in its own way.

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