Sport Climbing

A poem

Inspired by Rick and Liz Weber

Baby baby beckoning bolt
Beckoning bolt there is no hold
Baby baby beckoning bolt
Clipped the bolt , feeling old

Why do I not want to die
Want to die when I climb high
Why can I not trust the pro
Trust the pro , experience flow

Fate can slice the rope in two
Objective hazards that is true
When the 'biner is worn through
On a project puppies do

Immortality's for the young
While to life old climbers clung
Falling , falling never good
But when you lived you understood

Baby baby beckoning bolt
Good as gold ? Oversold
Probabilities you should fear
And when you die we split your gear