Backpacking with my family, age 9,
a day hike to a distant lake across a field of
jagged boulders and sharp-edged stone.
I’m a mountain goat,
a wild creature with unerring judgment
and suckers for hooves.
I spring lightly from rock to rock,
marveling as I do at the wondrous workings
of brain and body,
my eyes, feet, and spine in perfect sync.
My brother and I confidently bound ahead,
our slower, more timid parents
growing smaller in the distance.
I am alive and unstoppable.
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