Filming in the Hindu Kush

A poem today:

Filming in the Hindu Kush

She’s not a morning person,
much shaking and stretching
on her precarious haunt,
before she’ll stalk and make
a scent-disguising roll
in Himalayan dust and snow.

Villagers want rid, blaming her
for attacks on domestic animals.

Her wide-padded paws
perfect for balance.
Ironic my large carbon footprint
- the flight here, the four wheel drives
used to cart equipment up -
might save an endangered animal,
who eschews domestic goats.

Villagers watch via a laptop.
Smiles need no translation.

Each sighting of her creamy-silver
fur, long balancing tail, and I struggle
for breath. I’m not worth eating
so my affection’s unrequited.

Villagers comment,
“She’s my friend now.”