Day’s end.

Walking slowly, laughing still, downhill.
Soft underfoot, riddled with traps in the dying light.
Past hawthorn and rowan,
bent against the wind, stooped.
Carrying baggage.
Ended but not over, down but not diminished.
Aim for distant cars, vaguely, usually mine.
No rush, no hurry, no need.
A last effort, no burden.

Let this time remain.

This was always the best part for me.
An unspoken sense of “well done”.
Of Peter/Matt/Mark  in the late light.
Approval without appraisal.
Though we cursed and fought, it was all in jest.
Leaving no weakness, no untruth, no truth,
no unburdening, unused or important.
But always laughing,
always laughter.
Never cruel, despite the day.

Let this time be observed.

The walk off, give it it’s name.
Pushing, tripping, shoving,.
Rocks, sheep, rabbit, rough ground.
Warm and red in the last light.
Still, downhill, away from the rocks,
and into a soft place.
Towards pubs and bars.
To a lesser celebration,
of the erewhile celebrated day.

Let this time, now,  be famed.

The slow winding down, entropy.
Adrenalin burns off, leaving warmth and a glow.
Cut and bruise start to ache, skin is missed.
Fingers sore, forearms solid.
Rolling fags, sharing lights.
Shambling, stumbling out of light,
setting  sun in our eyes.
Shadows follow, ours lengthen.

Day’s end.
All days end.
Our days end.

But this time, let it not go unremembered.

 

One thought on “Day’s end.

  1. I like your poem, Taff. I remember once, coming down off the hill on my own, singing “My day in the hills, has come to an end, I know. The stars have come out, to tell me it’s time to go. But deep in the dark green shadows, are voices that urge me to stay. So I pause, and I wait, and I listen, for one more sound, for one more lovely thing that the hills might say.”

    Great poem, Taff.

    Love your poem. A climbing day is not complete without that peaceful walk, be it long or short, and the quiet, usually unspoken, celebration of a day’s trust and companionship

    I’d not given a lot of thought to the special nature of descending at the end of the day – very nicely put, I’d always put it down to a a sort of euphoric “OK, I’m not going to have to be frightened/bored/working hard again. Until tomorrow”. But I think you put it better. It is alarmingly gentle – I’d thought someone had hijacked your computer.

    Thanks for that,
    my sentiments, but so more eloquently put,
    Ta
    Adrian

    I liked your poem too but don’t worry, I still think you’re an arse. ;o) I think friendships are stronger when there are shared adventures, shared adversity.

    Excellent poem Taff. You can fairly easily find someone to hold your rope for a day at the crag but a true climbing friend is something else.

    I liked it too. I can just imagine it that moment of coming down from the hills

    Liked the poem – capture the moment very well.

    good effort. sitting in office in sao paulo, my little brain is now alive with thoughts of an england and adventures I’m soon to return to.

    Holy moly, what happened there, Taff showing a sensitive side?! I don’t believe it… Really liked that!

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