Poplars in Leh

Quietly poplars emerge in Leh,
High in the snow of bared hills,

The hills stripped of their green
By a forgetful blanket of winter.

From the Buddha peace above,
We look down on their clusters

In a muddy rockscape nestling
Ochre monasteries in its ridges.

Everyone here lives in poplars
They give them the life’s wind

And are no eerie wind sounds ,
Their deadwood fine geometry.

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