In a dry narrow boulder filled valley we stopped for a bathroom break. Our driver a Tibetan man clad in earthen tones and sporting a cowboy hat with a feather in it walked down the road. All of the plants are crispy and dry. I ran down to the the partially frozen creek that the small winding road follows to rinse my hands, and was refreshingly surprised by the temperature of the clear creek water. I spashed my face and felt sooo nice.
Blinkmiss
under thin layers of ice,
reflecting brilliant sun,
Fresh Creek water flows,
gurgling, whispering ecstacies
of a myterious world,
to the thoughtful ear only.
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