Thailand 2001

We gently rock
on the train out of Bangkok.
The Buddhist monk beside me is calm
        and approachable.
He has an orange cloth lying on his lap.
I presume it is related to the chap’s belief,
playing some part in his praying
and devotion.
I feel to enquire is not out of place.
I indicate the cloth,
gesturing, “this thing – what is it for?
He motions, that it is for wiping his sweaty face.