The Monk in Seat 39F

Washington to Denver Flight

the monk
in saffron robe
in seat 39F
sips tea
from a paper cup
high above the clouds

he seems different
than you or me

but the years
have taught me
the check-out lady
at the grocery store
knows as much
as he does
if not more.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , by Miriam Sagan. Bookmark the permalink.

About Miriam Sagan

I'm blogging about poetry, land art, haiku, women artists, road trips, and Baba Yaga at Miriam's Well ( The well is ALWAYS looking to publish poetry on our themes, sudden fiction, and guest bloggers and musers.

4 thoughts on “The Monk in Seat 39F

  1. I like the direct language and the implication — reminds me of Mary Oliver — you don’t have to kiss the ground, be Einstein or a Buddhist monk to “get it” — enlightenment comes in us in different ways and everyone is available to it if their mindset is open ….

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