Tag Archives: Tanka

Over and over (tanka)

Red floor mat under

My wordy ragged footwear-

Dripping slush and care.
Caught beneath a standard song:
sounds of crimson and clover.

Paper thoughts (Tanka)

Six folds can make a bird.

I read hair follicles smell
and plants feel despair

that can make them shy away.

Forty-two folds reach the moon.

light segue (tanka)

reflects in glass doors-
the new light of morning slips
out of dark cover;
reveals a kiss, first embrace
of day interlaced with me.