There was a mountain in St. Thomas
Honestly overrated
Often overshadowed
By every other peak in the Caribbean
From island to island
Climb to climb
It always stood out
If only for its consistency
Only a concrete road
Winding through the hills and the oceans
Not particularly challenging or particularly beautiful
Only perfectly consistent
Like the mountain I climbed
So often in childhood
Accompanied by a father
So perfectly consistent
Every Sunday we would climb
Exactly the same
Orange juice at the bottom
Makeshift gym at the top
And in every step lay safety
The safety of knowing there would always be someone by my side
The safety of knowing no matter what
We would come back next Sunday
The safety of climbing alone in adulthood
All those miles away
All those years later
On that mountain in St. Thomas
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