Tuesday, May 08, 2012

[Poem] Golden Triangle, Holy Mountain


Will I ever see poppies
In their natural habitat?
How red they appear in
All of these pictures beside
Mountain women with their
Dark turbans
Dour and thin
Up to their waists in grass.
Leftover bombs loiter
At their cautious feet
Who have no time for
Strangers pleading with
Them to say cheese

Gone with a flash of light
Before the harvest is done

 

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