Tired shoulders
fold in,
the week begins its repose.
I lean forward,
elbow to knee, and
backwards into
ancient spaces.
Temples,
doors, walls,
moss-covered stone, spaces
for midday recess.
Knees up, knees down,
the day drags on -
there isn’t much
left to do.
Moist and weary,
the air wraps around me,
its sultry gaze whispers
the day’s final verse.
The rain is coming.
* I borrowed Pablo Neruda’s title and wrote my own poem 
Filed under: Photography, Poetry, Traveling Tagged: afternoon, Ancient spaces, Budhist, Hindu, kathmandu, Nepal, Pablo Neruda, pashupatinath, poetry, rain, resting, Temples
