Monks in saffron,
are rare here.
Instead they wear robes the colour of navel-oranges
that have something of the look
a little less often,
the colour of red grapes –
of wine grapes –
and more self-aware.
Then today I saw one
the colour of pink grapefruit
on the back of a motorbike in thick traffic.
He did not look very transcendent,
but then, nor did he look polyester.
He flamed, incandescent, in the grey of that Phnom Penh street.
Unfortunately I didn’t manage a photo of the monk in the pink-grapefruit robe, my hands and mind being taken up with riding my own motorbike at the time. But he was like no other monk I’d ever seen, and I wish I could have got a snapshot.