Poem : Afghan Fort, at Kharlachi

 ''Over there'', said the Scout,

''Is Afghanistan''. 

What befell that fort?

That ruined outpost across 

the ravine, the stark line of heather, tree and copse ? 

Teri-Mangal is to our right

surrounded by blue-white snow; 

but the old black fort is there, against the naked humps

of terra-cotta -- beyond all siege,

pictured in its frame. 

A wind chilled by steppe,

A Central Asian wind cuts corners 

and whistles in dragging columns, 

in and out of that razed outpost

standing somewhat askew to earth and time, 

its impressive Khostwal face

wrapped in the silent posteen of history; 

I follow his finger

and he says it again, 

''Over there-- that's Afghanistan'' 

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from The Anvil of Dreams 1995