I may never reach the Engadine
But I’m marching there now
Tramping a muddy field
Watching a hawk glide down a castle stair
Thick yellow wildflowers stand encased in ice
Cowbells point the way through mist
Clouds add snow to peaks, turn dragon scales
Link to snake round great stone towers
The white serpent scratches triangles of forest
Climbing fast to see the sky
A virus stops my travels
Am I aged as my body
Or old as my memories?
I must make new ones
Invented but sturdy
Swift as the flight of a hawk
Blustery as the cloud dragons of Sils Maria
Rising to catch the escaping sun