Buddha Morning

and the sun
is shining in
my buddha
ever baking,

his clay dry
karma crazed
wet by thirst
bag of money
by his fat side,

covered in lucky signs
meditation beads worry
beggers rags laughing
down obesity's peace,

he waits for me
to give him alms
instead I give his
belly another rub,

a tiny piece of red
flakes off his body
as I sweep his grace
away with the dust.


John G.Hall(C)2004