This week, a 5 year old boy I know will leave Shelter. I will never forget him.
Somewhere, beyond all that
spins, a young man is standing
motionless, not a ripple near
He can barely speak
about the altitude,
the caverns,
the Terror
The time he lifted a boy in shards
from a jagged rock, tearing teeth
from his torso, placing a palm
over the strange stare in his eyes
Mound by mound, they climbed
around the edges of the canyon
to the very top
Never again to cower
in the dark
