A poem for the porters...

This poem is dedicated to all the Nepalese trekking porters, who sometimes carry up to 70kg in extremely rough circumstances and often get no thanks for it. The porter in this poem is inspired by one I saw at 5am in the morning on the way to Thorong-La...

Porter

I watch you wind
in shuffled steps,
with only stars
to guide you.

They know
that there is no-one else
to help you
through the black.
They huddle close,
they sparkle hard,
but cannot
ease your back.

I walk behind
your shuffled steps,
only a torch
to guide me.

We should
all bow to you, my friend-
this mountain here
is yours.
We all walk past,
we all walk fast
and let you suffer sores.

I walk you stop
and drop your ton,
only my grin
to guide you.

Your smile
pumps blood into my heart
and shines with inner light.
One day
you'll be a guide, my friend,
to put injustice right.
One day
you'll hold a torch, my friend,
to guide you through the night.