Uncia Uncia, In Captivity

I live in dreams

Patrolling Pamir

Karakorum crags

Himalayan moraines

Ancestral haunts

Icy vaulted chisels

Sculptors of our race

Masterful yet fleeting

Whispers in wailing

Whiteout wind

Scenting sheep

Beguiling goats

I die on waking

Choking humid air

Ear rending racket

Panting pacing

Packs of people

Eyes prying

Provoking protected

I sense fear

Smell the salt

Of their sweat

Taste the iron

In their blood