Confession of an inveterate peak bagger

1.
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2.
These scaffolds of talus and scree
these giant stone steps of antiquity ascending up
to an Incan sun temple
at whose blood-polished granite altar
I am to birth by caesarean a beating heart spurting

I am willing
to risk sailing across the dark misty waters
to plunge to the very depths of fire and sin and ice
to take repetitive centuries in purgatorial ascent
so that the one remaining peak in the realm of redemption
is in the bag