Romesh Gunesekera, 16 February 1989
My host is a monk on a long journey
from my grandfather’s coast town, exploring
England like I did these last dark ages.
Stopped temporarily in a shared room
we meet on my less noble travels:
discover we are exactly the same age.
At ten I knew I was misplaced;
he, at ten, also made for change.
Twenty yards of saffron robes
captured his boy’s imagination,