Poetry on the road
I wrote this over two car journeys in the mountains. Please read it aloud if you can for its full pleasure.
Tea Stall By a Bend in the Hill Road
High in the Himalayan foothills,
Where the hairpin bends wind,
I’m halted at a lone tea stall.
Forested valleys deep behind,
Toward far plains, they fall.
Six charpoys in the clearing form rough rows,
Some cool as Deodar shadows sway,
Sunshine warms the rest,
It’s a mild day.
Only the owner, me, two laconic locals,
Distant birdcalls lilt tranquillity.
From its small cup, I sip
The sweet, hot tea.
The tarmac curves up the mountainside,
Between tall, dark trees,
Patiently awaiting the next vehicle,
In the vacancies.
A truck revs far off,
Leaves rustle quietly,
Time moving imperceptibly,
Cool companion breezes wander by,
They are in no hurry, neither am I.
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