WAKING IN NEPAL
Is a cloudy sky, bright sun between, a slight breeze,
The sound of one man chanting.
And all elsewhere a few notes on some type of magic flute -
A strange cacophony of bells and horns and clattering.
No two horns seem to sound the same.
A mother engine? sounds like a tractor - probably a bus!
Beep, beep, beep.
If I look out of the window I see tin rooftops,
Blimsen Tower, a glorious white standing before the blue;
And there - a temple, a pagoda, a woman sitting with washing lay out to dry,
Pigeons coo-ing, crows a-crowing, gardens growing,
Potted plants that people tend,
A bicycle rickshaw, a cow, a man with a bundle of wood on his head!
A cockerel crows as another motorbike passes 3 men trying to move a fridge,
Young girl, proud, staring into space,
Three boys rolling rubber wheels of glee amidst the rubble,
Whilst more look on admiringly.
Yet another dog - a tempo (three-wheeler) barking as two boys, hand-in-hand,
Laugh at a goat.
Cock crows, horns, far away mountainous silences
Surround the Monkey Temple,
Like a golden palace on the hill.
Behind - another hill.
Shame about the dusty haze.