The Valley of Longevity - Vilcabamba, November 2009
I answered a silent request of
My own Lou Salomé.
She asked about the air I devoured
And I thought it might have
Been the evergreens that acquiesced
To stand still amid gnats,
Giving up on warm blood and growing
Unencumbered by the itch
Null beyond, zero air and quiet bolts.
Along a ridge, climbing dusty bones,
Wearied stones, I reached the
Top to gaze spring water stream below,
Where I had bathed unquenched
With Patriarch of the peaks above;
A constant walk mattered
More than starlit eyes to grab and hold
The leather reins passed on
Ambling steeds from Matriarch bestowed.
Beyond birds and bougainvillea,
Adobe bricks lifting
Lore amid fawn crosses, quilted fields
Sown with melancholy
Spring eternal, a face insists on
Heavenward reflection;
Bosomed valley guardian, though they looked,
You never could wake from
Wond’ring if you’d erode and deform.
