Alas. . .
I'm the queen of lock-up,
At least for a few months.
Like Merton's firewalk--
Quiet time, alone time,
Quite nice time.
Apple, bread and banana--
Broke some rule, I suppose,
But then and then and then--
Pen flows awfully nicely
As I feel the quiver of evening,
The Grand Silence of Zen--
"Thundering, thundering,
louder than before;"
"Music Man" trombones echo in
Sweet delight
As I'm pulled into the deep
of all deeps.
I live in a quasi-monastic community, and I have been the nightly lock-up person
for almost a year.
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