Rain in Kathmandu

Mountaintops hide

in the gray sky.

Fog sinks into the valleys.

Clothes hanging out

to dry on the rooftops

droop, soaked

and still.

The Buddhist prayer flags

hang limp and cold,

twisted around their ropes

strung over the houses

across the street.

They look ragged,

like so many broken teeth

in a mouth filled with clouds.

These prayers will not be

prayed today,

and the gods will not

hear.