THE HILL TRIBES OF LAOS

Noodles painted in yellow turpentine.
Food bursting at the seams
Smoke filled air resonates with flair
Men , women colored in coiled turbans
Smoking rolled tobacco, gazing at the mountaintop.
Long necks in glistening gold defies sadness masked in smiles.

Fog dominates the sky
Restaurant working like clockwork
Rustic people shaped without the winds of change
Signs of timed age and indifference
Onother day in a forlorn village
Laotian village untouched
Far from the madding crowd
Cloistered from the temptations of
the west
The west corrupts mercilessly
Nothing is forbidden .
People of the hill tribes
Masked by horror of bombs
Life stayed pure.
Life remained uncluttered
Humility is a sacred covenant.
Honesty is an atrocious master of fate
Resilience in character engraved .
How foolish is man's feeble mind
Unmindful of simplicity's power
Here lies the true test of geniality.
Geniality has its grace.