Machu Picchu
Across a narrow bridge in a rickety bus
Up the winding trail
Past the llamas grazing in the grass
Through Machu Picchu
Ascending higher than the mountains
Enjoying the landscape spread out before me
Walking in a place that I know is 550 years old
Wondering how such a place could exist
Watching others shrink below me
Nearing my destination
I climbed
Awesome poem, Ben. I really like the line: “Watching others shrink below me.”