We All Die In Mountains

In grade school we would ask:

How do you want to go?

Not knowing there is only one way we all die.

Everyone dies on a mountain,

A loose craggy pile of their own.

A misstep pushes a guitar-sized rock out

And the footing falls out.

Or at least on the way to heaven

Your keepers will take you through the mountains

To give you one last look.

So, do not be afraid

Next time you are alone on a peak

And your heart is shaking your breath

As you cross the steep gully

And the ground begins to move,

First the pebbles,

Then the cobbles,

Then the very ground beneath your feet

Starts to slide

And you remember thinking

How loud it is,

The sheer volume.