Arrival in Takhmachik Village

Night arrival, walk up slope, stone walls rising

higher, stars bright, “sang-sang” they say.
We are in a belly.  We ducked and climbed in
the stone alley stairs, up and around, hands on bricks of a castle.

Shovels full of lut, manure dug out with a pick,
the tiniest sheep, prayer flags spraying from its collar.

Desert-scape spreads beyond the village edge.  Purple slopes,
white peaks, layers of rock and sand towering over the Indus.