Poetry Pick

THE HIGH COUNTRY by Marianne Vespry

The high country we walked overlooked Everest Annapurna, Kanchenjunga We wandered above them in the summer sun I wanted a stone palpable memory a small one only for the palm of my hand Those I took up broke at my touch opalescent fragments rounded, like amber like pomegranate seeds Two people came, crying in fear or distress I turned to help them Some sound intruded pulled me away empty-handed out of that reality but its light lingers calling From Tower Poetry, Summer Edition 2010, Volume 60 No. 1

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