Natalie Callum

From Ingraham Flats

–on Mt. Rainier

Like an animal, she followed
‌          in the night. A lone
‌                    headlamp stalking—

‌          mouths of ice gaping
open—crevasses—visible screams,
‌          our breath a rising

‌                    fog—ragged life, warm
‌          droplets. I don’t know what
she sought—the only certainty:

the clatter
of crampons, metal grinding rock
and ice—the crunch
of ice axes
cleaving—

to the tether
‌          between our bodies, my hand
‌                    bony wing on animal shoulder,

‌          drawing back from black abyss. The desire
to live electric.
‌          The desire

‌                    to die like an animal,
‌          consumed by the great
indifference, a stalking, eerie light.

Natalie Callum is a writer and poet living between St. Louis, Missouri and Wyoming. When she is not writing, she can be found outside free-climbing and exploring with her much beloved husband. Her most recent work has been published in Willawaw Journal and North Dakota Quarterly.