The sun rises, illuminates the Himalayas
Bells and birds and Hindus sing
Dogs speak their own language
Roosters make themselves known
Women beat rugs, sweep porches
Horns blow in the distance like music
I wait for water to boil for my tea
I make quiet tiptoes across the marble floor
Dishes clang softly together as
I put them back in the cupboard
Outside, masked men ride away on motorcycles
Gates slam shut behind them
Neighbors greet each other, Namaste
Unseen men and women go to market
From the rooftop, green gardens grow
Gentle monsoons feed their roots
I breathe in their oxygen
I breathe in this Kathmandu air
Wild, dirty, beautiful air
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