In the
Cold desert,
Along with
The howling wind.
On horseback,
Galloping.

A strange
Weather beaten
Unfamiliar face,
Turning back
A grin throwing,
Continues his
Hurried way.

May be,
A herdsmen:
A Dhokpa, singing,
Making alive the air.
Pulling my ears of
Attention.

And I, lost
In his melody,
Staring till his horse,
In the vast horizons;
Of: green pastures
Disappears.

Musing
Still echoes
The tongue of:
A nomad
Ringing.

Note: Those people in Tibet and in Nepal bordering to Tibet, having a nomadic life shifting their flock of sheep, goat or yaks in the high pastures, living under the tent, are called Dhokpas.

editors note: Grin caught, attention pulled, ride on… – mh clay