Yard Sale of Thoughts

Stupas tower over tourists
wearing porcelain patterns built to honor kings.

Lavish structures pointing ever higher
composed from countless offerings.

The press of gold leaf on rusted statue,
clink of coin in bronze bowl till pockets empty.

Above, a roof glazed yellow bakes in full-year heat.
It will be painted by the unseen,

as overnight, a thousand pendant flags 
get strung from unused balconies.

I participate in the suffering of all things.

Visit the Buddha while he's reclining, 
to gaze upon the mystery of his feet.

One-in-a-billion know the truth;
in-laid enlightenment is just out of reach.

Then, head for the nearby alleyways 
clogged with vendors offering trinkets and local eats.

Stuff my soul with something 
satisfying, but brief.

The city cries for pity,
but no one hears or offers relief.

©2024 | K.F. Hartless

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