Written by Guy Biederman
Floating in the shadows of the ferry where a famous master once zenned, lived a sippy monk on a tippy barge called The China Sea. Each morning he walked the planks with a satisfied shrug, then untied koans of kelpy line until noon.
At lunch he played chess with the seagulls on a skiff, and when high tide arrived, he paddled to the No Name for beer and read Li Po until 2.
No books were written about him. No one came to his door. But his elegant wisdom glittered like sea glass on the ocean floor. Lifting a conch shell to his ear, he heard the whisper of the universe. Placing the shell to his lips, he answered its call.
featured in our winter 2018 issue
Beautiful….reads like poetry…..
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Beautiful prose poem, delightful in rhythm and universal message. Thank y. Ruth
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That was a nice poem. I really liked the imagery; it was very relaxing.
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Very beautifully written,congratulations,angelee
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Your first stanza is magical, makes me walk the length of the pier willingly. There are some neat verbal surprises such as the zenning master, the sippy monk, tippy barge, and kelpy line. This poem is the real thing.
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Liked the language play . . . the sippy monk on the tippy barge.
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