Sunday, May 5, 2013
A Night in a Yurt in Mongolia
The door is a size for dwarves
we pull it closed
against the coming storm
cold, wind, rain outside
inside
the crisscross frame encircles
a floor of quilted bedding
a small hot stove
where we warm our hands
and pour water from the kettle
steaming into cups
sudden thunder
the lights fare out
a young Mongolian
bursts in with candles
they flicker through dust
blown in
under horsehair felt
thick to the touch
protection
against the desert's gale.
About the Author
chrisb / Author & Editor
Has laoreet percipitur ad. Vide interesset in mei, no his legimus verterem. Et nostrum imperdiet appellantur usu, mnesarchum referrentur id vim.
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