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Home » Poems » Stephe Watson » Newal

Newal

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From my "Old Meditator" series.
 
Reflecting from the Now on the Then...
 
A Taoist possibly lamenting Buddhism.
 
The season's new, the day's light? Old. My weary eyes, seeking cheeks, first blur then blacken these wisteria 'n lilac views. Meditating falling to slumber? No matter. Meditating or life leaking? No matter. Nothing more to see. Out here. No matter. My nose let's Spring keep this Winter body company.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018


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Book: Shattered Sighs