A land far from Cold Mountain
though much the same
in a crooked shack
not quite as dark as
the kitchen at Kuo-ch’ing temple
I walk tenderly
barefoot over riprap trail
seeking the long way
turning my back upon

in a shack
windows white with
above many unseen
cold mountains
I am lost on a path
but smiling, conjuring
up great Ha, Ha laughter
knowing that all around
this earth
in word temples
of mind
are at work
wise men in rags

Reach out and touch someone....

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