Saturday, November 06, 2021

THREE OLD MONK POEMS (53) 


SMOKE CURLS

Smoke curls,
uncurls
like wishes,
like promises,
the old monk said.
I can see it
above the river.

~

I'D MAKE YOU

I'd make you a deal,
the old monk said,

but then you'd want me
to throw in another

dozen for free.

~

YOU CAN'T SEE HIM

You can't see him
if he can't see you
peeking around the corner,
the old monk said.
Please, be careful.

~



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