It’s your mom’s minivan pimped out
And only seats two
Because if it wasn’t hard enough to live in a van
It’s way harder to hook up in one
This poem is published in The Climbing Zine Book 2, now available. Banner photo by: Kristen Hughes
With a full set of seats in the back
Now it’s filled with old plastic bins
Scattered with random belongings
And an improvised bed consisting
Of a yellow foam pad and a sleeping bag
Lingering smells of cheap whiskey and feet
Are ever present
A freeloader of the Earth
Your path is lit by the sun and stars
And more often a headlamp
During those late evenings at the crag
When you are blissfully stuck
Between some rocks
And a hard place
Time is as absent as a good shower
But here rocks and rivers will teach
You more about time
Than clocks can
It is where time can be the greatest healer
As well as killer
Regardless of every mother’s cautionary tale
You can lay to rest the forces outside of your control
And find happiness
In the people and places that ask nothing from you
But your presence
A Wisconsin city ruffian turned Minnesota nice, Amber is a student who fancies sunset paddles on the Mississippi, starry night skies, rock climbing, and a warm cup of coffee on a quiet Sunday morning. She draws inspiration from her friends that show her how much beauty there is in this world and its people.