A Pome a Day for a Year

Little metal oblong,
snip snap clasp,
coarse, thick weave slippery along
the smooth stainless orange
glinting from snow’s reflection
hurried, bitten fingers,
push down into safety,
hinge squeaks and jumps
and clack click completes,
rope taught,
rope resting,
rote action.

Craggy rock and
sheeted ice and
piercing wind and
sunlight, unfettered by pollution
or clouds,
or tower blocks that gather like
security guards, forcing
your feet to the ground, your body
to the waves of droneship.