Why would anyone want to sit
cross-legged for an hour a day,
motionless, every itch unscratched,
striving for clear mind, fighting sleep?
Right now I'm part human, part dog,
part hungry ghost, part bodhisattva,
longing for the afternoon I'm already in.
Around me the whole dark immediate
forest...
At Mt. Lebanon Cemetery snow
covered the stones. Footprints
told their familiar story over and over.
This afternoon we stood
in half circles holding hands
like strings of paper silhouettes unfolded.
In the parking lot, cars would come and go,
unsettling the melting snow that puddles now.
Over...