The dog asleep in her bed
the dove crooning to the leafless tree
incense smoulders to the last milimetre
Buddha wears the silent garden smile
nodding violet dies
clock is obscured by washing
when the shakuhachi master calls
the wind arrives to play the bamboo
birds wings stroke the air.
The phantom of my fantasy is with me
laying down a larval flow of smoking words.
I have spent a long night in prayer
the hours fell like bags of black soot
as I whispered into the flat screen of the dark
There was no other way to spend night.
There is no other way to spend day.
no other way.