Time For Another Sestina

The time has come for a Sestina

about the mountains I cannot climb.

Unable to climb mountains anymore

I live in their snow capped memories.

Physical memory of movement,

though still, the mountains are strong standing.

Time has left me barely standing

my weary fingers write Sestina

what is left of my bodies movement.

Intellectual mountains to climb

lost in clouds of my old memories

I no longer labor towards more.

My whole life I have wanted more

a strong desire to be last standing

with disregard to making memories

taking the time to write Sestina

nothing has worth unless there was climb

never stopping always in movement.

My joints crack with every movement

my knees cannot take this anymore

these aches and pains have begun to climb

I am surprised I am still standing

through clouded eyes I write Sestina

write quickly forgotten memories.

These visions have become rock memories

this last breath my final death movement

let me exhale one last Sestina

last desire to stretch for one more

Whether horizontal or standing

granite toe to chiseled face I climb.

The bones in my feet remember climb

each osseous cave stores memories

my physiology is standing

though I have ceased all my movement

my cells no longer desire more

the time has come for Sestina.

This climb has taken all my movement

memories not useful anymore

what is left standing is Sestina.