hidden behind the leaves

seven

horizon dim through thin valley cloud but here spreads a clear grey dawning sky with morning chill, an empty head and open hands; old tea cup now shattered on damp stone step, shards and sighs, master ko considers his bare toes with the blunt yellowed nails, impermanence, considers that buddha fella sitting under fig tree, sitting and sitting, you know that story? just sitting till becomes organ grinder's monkey ha ha ha, like rest of us, like you and me, good work that buddha fella does, good work, too, that sunrise and the so slow dissipation of thin cloud

photograph by g simoni