I pause to catch my breath. Panting follow panting, as my hands clench my knees, but I can’t get enough. Mira looks on in concern. The ascent above glacial point taxed us both, while our Cross-Country-running trained son ascended with envious ease.
She prepares to speak when I stand up straight. I nod.
“Are you sure?” She asks, incredulous.
“Let’s go,” I answer.
We follow the rest of the trail, past the last pine trees, to the base of Sentinel Dome. Pure granite awaits. Others rise along its face.; the Rock could care less.
With the last of my strength, I step out onto granite and climb to the apex. Where the ceaseless wind and vast vistas of Yosemite greet me in equal measure.
I embrace them both.
The Rock cries out to us today,ย You may stand upon me,ย But do not hide your face.
I’m hosting Prosery over at dVerse Poets. We’re writing prose of our choosing, 144 words or less, and including the last sentence of my piece.
The Pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
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