Poem: into the cold

      
eagles circle mountain mist
soar slow slow   slo  ly
in and out
morningmist
high
over Dharamsala
you are almost calm here
wind horses float orange purple yellow laundry
gracefully

flap balconies
yellow banners
plant the mountains
almost
your father made the family
listen to Dalai Lama
radio
and your brother struck out for India
you jumped to go
to Lhasa to wash dishes
then with a guide who had not been
a shadow
lost the track north north north
mostly children
across  the snow
no path
Chinese soldiers with gunsgunsguns
at night
blazing
amidst lurking shadows
had to doubleback
bluedemons
one night wolves cornered a monk in a cave
and cold
pulled a rock over the opening
Lord of the Dead
silvery teeth
given up for
blazing eyes
walked back alive
in the good morning
copulating
one day in the snow
without food
elaborate flakes curlingsoft
a girl’s finger
against your face
hour after
lie close close close
nose in the snow
turned blue
to breathe
one night in the highHimalayas
jumpjumpjump  
down down
down

from the frozen
where you cannot see
six months

and pray
no food
skidding
Yama
Lord of the Dead
eagles circle
morning mist
in Dharamsala

to find the way

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