Today
I saw a monk
pause before the open frame
of the airport's art gallery
with mouth agape,
robes bright
and backpack sagging,
before moving slowly forward
as if nothing new,
nothing striking,
nothing important waited there
in the artists' critique of society,
class,
consumerism,
and extravagant wealth.
Today
I saw a monk
shuffle his small backpack
and continue to the baggage claim
with mouth agape,
robes simple
and backpack firmly clasped...
YOU ARE READING
Reflection
Poetry"I've been trying to put it to words, to collect those thoughts wholly, and to combine them singularly into an explanation--- Not an excuse. Not an apology. Not a proposal." From 'With You I'll Never Hang My Noose" My 2015...
