the mountain on my street

there is a mountain at the end of my street.
people would prefer to not speak about it.
but there it is, lurking. looming. above us all, a mountain.
if you were to leave my apartment building and turn left, you would be facing the mountain.
you would also be facing north.

it is easy to navigate here, because the mountain is impossible to miss.
it is very easy to not see.
but it is a landmark, nonetheless.
you can tell north by the way nobody looks.

you can travel north, mountainwards, for quite a distance.
it is a very long street, the street with the mountain.
as you go, you will go uphill.
within a few blocks, you would be higher than my bed, which is inside a fourth-floor unit on the south side of my apartment building.
very few north-facing windows in my city.

you can travel north, if you wish, and you will go up and up and up.
you may feel light-headed.
i have heard that some have bagged this peak, if you will.
they brought oxygen, to those heights.
imagine that. carrying the air you need to a mountain that lacks even atmosphere.
is it any wonder we look away?

we do our best to look away.
it does not appear on your GPS, nor will any native of my city take a selfie with it in the background.
tourists gawk.
locals ignore.

but there is a mountain at the end of my street.