The Himalayas

In the mountains every cloud rains,
the river folds the land in its skirt, rocks
with carpet of moss
where sheep wearing green boots of slush slither,
cosmos in the blustery wind
bends to kiss the ground
like hillmen doing namaz,
the ice from silvery heavens
as rivulets pass my path:
an astute shopkeeper’s refrigerator –
red crates of Pepsi immersed in icecold stream.

Writer’s Island  

 

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Himalayas

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s