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Poems by Beverly (Horowtiz) Armstrong

Beverly's Suzuki Stories - Beverly's cuke page


 

Face of My Teacher


I am putting away everything

but the face of my teacher who

is perhaps not your teacher but you
 

may do the same. I am praying

for peace with my whole

heart. The window across


from my breathing is showing

a field and a red car that merely

drives through. His hands set


in stained glass gassho on a card

leans against the window given

by my dead friend years ago


who lives in me still. As I write this

I am breathing in the terrible

karma that makes men mad


and breathing out my field its

ordinary rhythms of life and death

the way it lays content asking


for nothing more than what arrives

and suffers the pickaxe crows

without complaint. Paris is burning


where i stood long ago with toothache

pain in front of the Mona Lisa.

I am tired of angry men who behave


like vindictive boys. May their hate merely 

manure the ground. May the face of my

teacher find them and also love.