leave it alone

you see the mountain.
it's peak.
the bluish ragged
line of cliffs and hills.
the snow cap,
white in the sun.
it's there.
do you want to go and climb
it.
no.
not really.
the ropes and tools,
the special boots,
and dried
food. a lumberjack
shirt. red plaid, perhaps.
lugging water and maps
up the side.
the rescue helicopter
whirring
above you as you
teeter on an edge crying,
calling for
your mother.
your fingernails dug
into a hunk
of shale.
you want to leave
the mountain alone,
it's not bothering anyone.
you want to enjoy it from
a distance
like so many other things
in life.