Six-Inch Monk - March 7, 2022

I stare at his

crossed bronzed arms

the tarnished face

of no emotion

each shoulder

a smooth boulder

and between them

a waterfall beard

frozen in time

behind the door

of his closed eyes

engulfed in a dark hum

the base note of existence

like an ocean crashing

without the mouth of waves

I know because

I looked through

that keyless lock

a long time ago

before I strayed

and never found

the way back home