It’s baffling. They come here
And queue for hours and hours
Just to get the chance to climb
For climbing’s sake alone
And mostly, just this mountain
I dont know why it’s special
There’s many other mountains here
But they all choose the one
I live on. I was frightened
At first. I thought they’d come here
To find, perhaps to kill me, but
That wasn’t it at all.
They seem to just like climbing
As high as they can manage
They’re really quite inept at it,
And hundreds of them fall.
They never seem to notice
Me watching, as they struggle
To reach the highest point of all
And then… go down again.
Sometimes I leave them footprints
To find outside their campsite
To see if they will realise
But always, they explain
That this is just a bear track
A prank. An indentation
Left by some falling debris or
Some other explaination.
It cannot be a yeti
They reassure each other:
Believing in the yeti would
Be cause for consternation
And ridicule. It’s madness
Caused by fatigue and hunger
The thought I might be up here’s just
Too much for them to bear.
One day I’ll leave the mountain
Go down into their country
And when I find it, I’ll pretend
That none of them are there.
Tom Juniper Poetry 