Kenrap of the Phuktal Monastery

By Caspian Flint

Through slatted window rings

the mountain embalmed a bell

there’s a monk in the passage

Without a lantern makes the hushes of childhood

A sticky nose frustrated, unpracticed hands

The old monk stirs the pot

sheared down to a fine black stubble

appears bloated against

the fleeced figure of the elder

The things he forgot he schooled

How we pass through

as part of the fabric

under which he naps

and builds blocks

with the whole realm of Dharma

All carnations of the grandfather in the village

Cannot tie a knot but plays

outside with a long stick and a flag

CASPIAN FLINT is an Iranian American writer from Southern California. She holds an MA in Prose from the University of St Andrews and is currently reading for her second Masters in Creative Writing at the University of Oxford. Her work has also appeared in Logue [Yellow], Surfaces, Forever Mag, Imagista and the Wellington Square Review.

Art by Poppy Williams