By Robert Jay
The child raises his hand
To the sky
Of vast possibilities
The herb is too strong
Moonlight now dances
In the leaves
Endlessly
The sun glimpses from this
Overcast morning only to find
More yogis offering salutations
Noticing the old homeless man
Now suddenly gone
His only obituary written
In our memories days ago
Everything is said at once
The passing strangers
Returning smiles
Gently closing the door
To the quiet morning fog
The long walk home