Tuesday, January 10, 2017


Clearing my parent’s house after they died
I found in the box room of the attic
Standing in a corner, behind some suitcases
Long done with their travels, a dusty Buddha
About an inch tall. He seemed unperturbed –
Well, he’s a Buddha; being unperturbed
Is his métier – that we’d lost each other
At least twenty years before in a state
A thousand miles or more away.

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