When Roshi says there are no accidents I nod, but my heart holds back. Tonight, washing dishes, I shatter a special beer glass. –Maybe there are no accidents, only transitions, migrations of spirit. I buy a handmade coffee cup knowing this clay, too, will find its own way to shatter.
Matthew grew up in Kentucky, joined the Air Force and was stationed in Crete. He still draws inspiration from Zorba, Odysseus and the wine-dark sea. Matthew lives in Maine.
Roshi knows…
Well done, Matthew.
❤️Thank you!
I always love your work, Matthew. I especially love the ending, “…this clay, too, will find its own way to shatter.” Perhaps we all have feet of clay.
❤️Feed the pigeons some clay
Turn the night into day
And start talkin’ again when I know what to say
John Prine