Steve Braff


The left wing tips down
into a lazy bank
right above the bilious white cloud
skyscrape to the horizon –
an immensity that almost eclipses
the jagged profile of distant range
that Everesting place
of the so many aspirants fallen.

I stare into that expanse
and try to take my measure.
Humbled, we fall through the nimbus,
we sink down beneath that virginal blanket,
we drift into the thick and yellow and languid haze-
down into the dust, the fuming, the utter exhaust
of Kathmandu.

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