Zen Garden

Zen Garden

Are limes are less
                themselves
                when I squeeze them

                on ice and leave
                them, rind, pulp,
                tip of the glass, their
                soft shards on my tongue (and what

                what’s left

of the ice) a float-

                             in
                            Zen, a

garden                 that famous one

I can’t                                    really remember

the name     of                until I scrape

                all            the glass

clean

                my tongue

                                the rake

               

                solitary

while the ice       re-

                                  du-

                                                ces,

while I swallow