The Endless Climb by Sara Vernekar

a back toughened like sea glass 

praises, appeals, insults 

words with the intent of knives 

they don’t stick 

nothing does   

and your feet remain 

obedient. Way down 

on the rungs of the ladder: 

battle-weary friends 

family dinners eaten cold 

that one lover, still waiting. 

a string of weekends snarled  

in wash-and-dry cycles. 

cowboy dreams 

astronaut dreams 

pocket-sized dreams 

never written down.  

The top of a Gulmohar tree 

peeps into your empty bedroom 

flaming red and then not 

flaming orange and then not 

now bare-faced and proud 

the seasons streaking past 

in a maddening pattern  

you cannot grasp. 

Almost there, kid. 

You murmur it like a spell 

to ward off the tears.  

The ladder climbs  

up up up 

your only friend 

taking you to new heavens 

or another shiny place 

that will feel like enough.  

---

Sara Vernekar is an alumna of Anita's Attic and recently won a place in The Himalayan Writing Retreat's short story course. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in The Hindu, Eunoia Review, Neologism Poetry Journal, and Last Girls Club magazine. She is currently working on her first novel.