WRITERS ABROAD MAGAZINE
Road To Dalkhut A Poem by Valerie Cameron
South Oman on the Yemeni border
Veils of mist slip over peaks,
hiding snails and whorls of soft creatures,
snuggling in rockface,
once safe beneath the sea.
A soldiers’ road cuts a mountain,
corkscrewing the Jeep past rocks
bearing diggers’ tribal scars;
from the summit a lemon wedge of sand,
frilled by ocean,
A rifle barrel through a slit.
On the plateau cows move aside,
herders appear like rare birds,
Above clouds two boys gather firewood,
and vanish in fog.
A checkpoint guard steps out,
weighted with grenades,
takes our pass and warns us
not to use the shorter route;
deadlines catch in our throats like dust.
A wolf runs alongside,
yellow eyes, yellow teeth.
Dalkhut hunkers down at sunset
like a camel on sand.
An old border post
walled with cartridge boxes
sits becalmed in No Man’s Land
snaking trails coil round the human cost.
Our mission will be over soon;
we radio ahead and fix a Gatling gun,
not caring for starry silence
on the road to Dalkhut.
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