The End Justifies The Means
Poem By George Krokos
The slope steepened and each step cost two breaths where once it cost one. The morning freshness flagged.They began to pant, and, breaking a sweat, soon shed their shirts.Then they stopped and sat down. They drank some wine, passing the bottle back and forth. Billy took a loaf of bread from his bag, tearing it in halves, and slicing a tomato, gave the bread and wedges with some feta to his new friend who was no longer a new friend. They drank some more wine and on they went, not rejoicing that their bones were limber and free of ache because they knew nothing of aching bones till the path became steeper still and more effortful. They talked about the top reverently and wondered would they know it when they got there. Both agreed they would, because the ground would turn level and there would be no more slope to climb.