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March Reflections

A dark fog
wrapped itself around Lhasa
as if it had been created
by a phantom shade
moving silently
it became a snake
our highest

signaled evening
the wild wind
Woo . . . woo . . . woo . . .

nights became restless
tragedy was everywhere
my people were suffering
tears were falling
down . . . down . . . down . . .
into the center

winds cried through the night . . .
Woo . . . woo . . . woo . . .
weeping . . . weeping . . . weeping . . .
my life, my love, my poetry . . .
smothered in tears
my soul bleeds
into the desert
of painful


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