Cartography

A man’s struggle to be exposed
is a long, slow climb
through treacherous territory—
“Harrowing the whole way,”
he says across napkin boulders
and steaming pools of coffee.

“Bears at the tree line
could tear your heart right out—
Bam— one swipe and you’re done for.”

She sighs, knees pulled close
to her chest—prodding a plateau
of eggs over easy.

“Altitude sickness.
Exposure at 12,000 feet,”
he adds and subtracts—
“can’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Why go through all that?
Seems silly to me,”
she replies— snowing salt
over biscuit mountains.

Giant slabs of sugar & ice
break off & crash
into sweet tea springs.

“The view from the top is incredible,”
he echoes through silverware valleys,
“everything spread out & open—
like a map of the face of God.”