beside the river, a tree wears the burnt
umber dhoti of the guru
on this urban mountain (monk-
bald), sky is a himalayan poppy
prayers are wind-horses: we are told this.
the Self: paper
flags falling, shed leaves of maple.
and yet --
this tree...
serpentine, betel bijoux
beneath a thousand cycling moons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment