by Kevin T. McEneaney
You don’t have to be Euclid to wonder
at the proportions of rugged beauty
that assault the eyes of the beholder
at Machu Picchu in sunshine or rain.
People once prospered amid the huge stones
and took in the view of the world below,
knowing the harshness, awesome view of life.
Did they feel like eagles or myrmidons
as they ascended and descended steps
on their rounds of daily, communal chores?
Like everywhere else death stalked the landscape
of macaws, parrots, and poisonous snakes,
yet their lives touched the hem of the heavens
as they walked within clouds of fragrant bliss.
