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.
~
