Where the High Roads Meet
A scene-led poem about Gilgit Baltistan.
The Karakoram lifts stone into blue silence.
Glacial rivers braid light through the valley.
Apricot trees bloom beneath walls of snow.
A jeep follows the cliff where the old road narrows.
Tea arrives warm in a village above the clouds.
The mountains are immense, but hospitality fills the room.
- Clara North