More Than One Buddha

Yesterday, on Canyon Road
I took a turn into a courtyard
The gallery that had been there was gone
More than one Buddha adorned the lawn
Ten or twenty, thirty maybe
Cast from the same mold
Classic cross-legged, eyes cast down
Offerings in the lap of every one
Chrysanthemums, or asters, Mexican sunflowers
Attested that autumn was coming
Strings of prayer flags
Swayed above the garden
The cafe was closed.
Those Buddhas grouped in family arrangements
Remind me, husband, that you are dead
And gone off somewhere without us
Still, all day long
It pleases me to remember
What pleased you—
Umbrellas, teacups, shoes, rain. 

© Miriam Sagan