Gedicht

Exercise

Words on a page. The movement

Of a hand and its fingers,

Gently guided by the mind.

Is there a feeling within,

Or is this meditation,

A minimal exercise?

A candle flickers madly

Before a seated Buddha.

Its flame will last till morning.

I scratch my head thoughtfully,

Swallow a gulp of cold tea.

Where is the poem hiding?

Marcus Cumberlege

					Ekō 98
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