Hermit
The hermit escapes loneliness
by seeing no other humans.
In his monkish solitude
the world is forgotten.
Might I someday be no longer
reminded of you and me?
The wilderness calls me to it;
the high mountains rise in the distance.
Stephen Brooke ©2026
yeah, that T'ang poetry influence shows up again
this from Column A
some of that from Column B
a balanced diet
and a balanced life is found
on both sides of the menu
Stephen Brooke ©2026
pretty much in the shape of a tanka
I’m currently reading a history of the Silk Road, the caravan route across central Asia. My protagonists travel that route in the novel ‘Wilk,’ set shortly after the First World War. Through most of history the more southerly route across the Tarim Basin was more used, as it was safer, albeit a more arduous route. By the time of my story, concerns for bandits and other human dangers had greatly decreased so I sent Jean Wilk and his companions to China via the northern route, through the Dzungarian Gap.
Why? Lower mountains, mostly. Getting their truck or airplanes across the pass into Sinkiang would have been difficult, if not impossible. I’ve learned since the roads were very sandy along that way, as well, making them largely unsuitable for wheeled traffic. That was probably pretty much as true in 1919 as it had been in centuries earlier.
So I made the proper choice there, sending men, truck, and, yes, a couple disassembled aircraft north on the railway from Tashkent and then east into China. That journey is far from being the entire novel but makes up a decent portion of it.
