Wednesday, January 3, 2018

the work

beating a broken path
digging down
into solstice snow

the forest pond
flooded flat 
with well pumped water

discarded kitchen buckets
and broken boards
become the net

cold monk tends the goal
twisted stick in hand
robes whirling for a save

doing the work

Brother Ollie
the tired monk 


  1. Always lovely to see you, Brother Ollie......I see on the news that you are in the deep freeze for sure......I see the robes whirling, for a save.......hopefully, afterwards there was hot chocolate. It's tradition. Smiles.

  2. Hah, nothing like the cold to inspire a poem about the cold. A save and a winning poem! Liked being taken back to youthful games that seemed so serious. But in hindsight were really about being free. A winner.


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