Pome: The Last Time I Went Up The Mountain In Glarnerland
Was a poignant one
Pome: The Last Time I Went Up The Mountain In Glarnerland
the last time i went up the mountain in Glarnerland i can’t remember, which intrigues, because the alp runs a 20minute ride from Glarus, a painting of a Swiss hamlet where the snow falls in a wondrous tale and the burghers reel off countless days in the pure and endless white stuff, snowboarding and skiing and imbibing hot tea and cold beer, the sun a sparkle of joy and the mountain a Shangri-la and the first time i went up i do recall, was the winter of ‘98, and the tiny kids of the alp zoomed past as i hit the snow constant, went skedaddling off the low-to-the-ground T-bar lift which had me over each time, the kinders not even bothering to laugh at the 28 year old goofball unable to catch his balance and what glistened was this world in the clouds, the goldheat of the sun, this existence going on perpetual discovered that day, and after countless times going up the mountain of Glarus i may not remember the final time, but recall, always, how glorious those times were and remain and that is enough ❄️❄️❄️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏂🏂🏂
Post-script: be the sharpest observer of yourself
Post-post-script
i
met
a
girl
once
in Mcleod Ganj
who imbibed
her own
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