The radio crooned, the mountain
Smiled and pelted the valley below
With a shower of rock and buried
The village which had nestled at
Its foot for centuries

The radio still crooned and I was
Darning socks in the dark,
The needle stung like a demented
Bee and my mouth was full of pebbles
Where teeth used to be.

Through a rocky labyrinth I found
My way to daylight covered in dust
Of gold – Rain came and washed my
Riches away as a condor flew high
Above the mountains slope.