12/31/2020

Zen Hits The Floor

I move books from table to
table, one slips from my hand

a memory rises, I carry
a bucket of hot water, steam
rises in morning winter air

Zen hits the floor.

[RK, 12/31/2020]
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Fortune Cookie mine had winning lottery numbers I paid $2 for a Lotto nothing matched I made tea with your shredded letter it play...

  • (no title)
    Sleepy Time   A pile of spent tea bags,  a loose leaf atlas of dreams,  and sketches for the person  you wish to wake into  tomorrow mo...
  • (no title)
      Bears   four and twenty blackberries caked onto the waiting sky sliced wide open, dripping juice stains on linen   a one man...
  • (no title)
    Woodworking Lesson: Coping Saw To practice cutting holes in things,  begin with a simple shape,  his arched eyebrow, perhaps,  or your ...