TANKA...............
an'ya, US

 

sketchy skies
over the promenade...
summer rain,
I'll turn it to champagne
if she looks at me twice

young lovers
on a lonely road at night...
the stop sign!
who besides this ripe-corn moon,
knows they drove right through it

how similar to
a new foal without balance,
my attempt to flirt;
taking a chance on love—
how soon, I've fallen down

old tree fort—
had I not listened to that
childhood mockingbird,
would we still hear the same song
together at this altar?

a robin's egg:
imagine my dismay
in finding it...
I feel such emptiness since
you've gone from the nest

 

 

return to top of page

 

 

*