|In Steps Of Ancestral Explorers
Among distant Andean mountains,
lamp oil seeps beneath ground sheets
shadowed by walls of bone dry canvas.
Hemp rope shreds,
wind vibrates against pole and peg,
singing among snow squalls
that gauge its low moan.
Farther away,up tracks,leather boot shorn,
rests against a weather proof.
Still protruding hand claws at air
placing one fingertip against a final peak
as if seeking some calculation or measure.
Distances glaze white,
disappearing into dizzy heights
below a circling condor who glides and swoops,
wing tips brushing sides of fathomless ravines.
30 Aug 05
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beautifully done larrylark, you have a gift for imagery.
Dear Lonely girl
And you have a gift for making this old poet very happy.
i like making other people happy. making you happy made me happy :-)
mixing of tenses may be restrained, but romantic imagery and a title too good to pass up
then again, the Andes deserve as many verbs as possible, don't they?
Shelleyan - as if from oh, whatsit! it's on the tip of my head - where the poet-hero goes up, down, around, and all a-swirl
Awesome first stanza. Perhaps right-brained versus the second that loses the enchantment and is sort of not detailed enough-too logical, cliche. What is something about the condor you could realize that is highly poetic and illuminates its Andean life and connections better? I know it's hard to stop when the momentum seems to suddenly evade and disperse...
(If she's of the good folk, hi Monica! May God bless you!)
Maybe it just needs a third? A trinity of details, enchantment and experientially beautiful, contemplative sharing?
I think you may well be right about the 2nd stanza but some things are hard to change once written out. Thanks for your perceptive comments.
Larry ice pick Lark