Shortness of breath
in slow motion
from one end of the room
to the other.
Hot water bottles
under five dense blankets
might keep me alive tonight
in this Tibetan motel.
Yak and noodles for dinner.
Hydration salts for breakfast
if I can pull myself
out from under
the weight of wool
with bulging eyes.
We came all this way
and I am unable to eradicate
the nagging vision
of white cotton clouds
pulled slightly apart
unveiling layers
of the righteous peak
marked with icy footprints
It may be worth it.
© 2012 d.c.p.
No comments:
Post a Comment