the black: Some deep coffee black early morning tired monk haikuish poems.
up snap and out in the black
rolling garbage cans
rain soaked blowing lids
robes soaked heavy wet
darkest country night
temple dog huddles
wet leaves cling
deep robe red
fall to temple floor
Abbess always wants to know.
Is it cold? For now...
winter robes wait
Love the imagery you have created... can feel the dampness of the day.
ReplyDeleteWow, I could hear the lids clattering and feel the lashing rain. West Coast - East Coast - we know Rain and Wind. Love the living imagery in this poem. Love the subtitle SO MUCH!
ReplyDeleteYour words really do take me to a different place and time. You have a great talent at picking out the exact sensory image to make it all so real: huddling temple dog, red robes, wet leaves give the shiver, the colour and the texture.
ReplyDeleteOld Ollie,
ReplyDeleteIt seems like Tired Monk, senses the seasonal changes, together with a change of robe perhaps!
Eileen
an interesting glimpse into the seasons..enjoyed the subtle play of words ~
ReplyDeleteOld Ollie ... I always love your words. These were particularly dark ... ;).
ReplyDeleteDear Brother Ollie - I remember the winter robes and the clattering bins! Lovely evocation.
ReplyDeleteAre there any trees in your monastery? I have an Experiemntal Tree Plantation over in Exile (Sunday Trees). If you have a tree poem or would like to respond to my tree photo I would be honoured to add your sapling!
Best wishes, Isabel
delightful writing on a dark imagery.
ReplyDelete:)
bits of home and life. i recognize them. we watch the weather here, too, listen to the can roll, rub the dog, wade through the matted leaves:)
ReplyDeletexo
erin