Ruins and The Inca Trail

Ruins and The Inca Trail

SPF-Fifty.
No compromise: white or burned.
Where’s my melanin?

Ollantaytambo.
Conquistadors, Inca fought.
Now tourists stroll there.

Saw Sacsayhuaman.
It’s pronounced ‘Sexy Woman’.
Zig zag walls, nice curves.

Run up ruin stair.
Tour group follows me: bad call.
I went the wrong way

Rain slicked Inca stair.
I don’t, but almost tumble.
Slight knee injury.

Inca trail gear up.
Walking stick and coca leaves.
Rain poncho, caffeine.

Sunscreen missed a spot.
Apocalyptic sunshine.
Hand, now a burned claw.

The guide says, ‘Don’t move.’
Kills the spider on my arm.
We finish dinner.

Hummingbirds buzz past.
I halt to photograph them.
Really, I need rest.

I’ve been converted.
My new god’s Pachamama.
To hell with YOU, Crom!

There is no air here.
Mountain trail climb, I’m panting.
Llamas stare, eat grass.

Rainy night at camp.
I meet a girl: talk, dance, laugh.
Share beer, up too late.

My turnstile friendships.
Tourists in Peru, meeting.
Then flying away.

Inca-set stone trails.
Standing on cliffs is common.
Fear defied by awe.

Climb to air-thin heights.
Crest the top, gasping, sweating.
Yes, the view’s worth it.

Andes on horseback.
We dismount, then crawl through caves.
A shaman guides us.

We walk the horses.
Deep slope to Tambomachay.
Perfect Inca stones.