Blundstones peak from
monk’s orange robe
as he minds steps
through grey gum forest
////////
thunk of timber
into iron stove;
then, warm silence
in the monks’ hall
////////
Buddhas and silly wool hats
greet wombat cruising
for night-time bread treat
////////
walking to nowhere
and everthing
at once –
simple as heel-toe-
////////
the constant
and grinding erasure
of his conscience
and consciousness
and consciousness