A bar-headed goose
and her ten goslings
nest in a belt of superlatives
Himalayas rifted with granites
and acid volcanoes
She would prefer glacial rivers
away from ramparts
of thin air and a tough life
but old habits
At quiet times
she’s disturbed by novice monks
honking their silly horns
Herons make a racket
trumpeting the secret of long life
and when there is a sky burial
saffron robes climb a revered peak
eyed by snow leopard
hungry as China’s sorrow
When the urge comes
beaks become missiles
gearing south in an arrow
as cold brings new smells
to the mountain
First published in Under the Radar, 2016
Julie Maclean 