Green, the mountain meadow
White, the wall of fog

Lakes of trapped glacial runoff —
aqua gemstones in dim light

Lines of sheep crisscross
the part lines of trail
that segment the pasture
in Cubist form

Curfew is on again,
“How do you survive with the roads closed?”
“We remember from years ago. There are ways.”

Such a beautiful place
trapped in a cycle of human ugliness

Barren gray mountains —
more than verdant pastures —
echo the Kashmiri struggle