Wild Water: Three Tanka
1.
throughout the long day
the wild water crashes
again and again—
memories of you silently
slip under water
2.
as evening comes
the tide begins to swell
in the empty sound,
one lone boat
longing to set sail
3.
foghorn rasping
deep and low—
a bleak song
of ships surrendering
to savage waves
A Poet in Time
One Poet's Writing Practice: Poems by Mary Kendall
A Poet in Time 
Beautifully penned! when working with children in bereavement I often compare it to waves. Since my mom passed in Dec. I am seeing the waves in a different light; your poem truly moved me.
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Cheryl, Thank you so much. Having lost my father at age 8, I wish I’d had someone like you to help me understand and deal with my grief. I’m so sorry about your mother’s passing. It’s never easy, is it? I’m glad the poems work for you.
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I am sorry you lost your father so young. I was 6 when my grandfather (he was closer to me than my father) and it was surreal…not comprehending everyone saying he was in a good place. A good place, really? but that should be with me.
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Exquisite beauty of echoing loss. Brings tears to my eyes. Thank you.
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My thanks go to you, Eloise.
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Beautiful. ❤
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Thanks so much, Katarina.
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strong emotions pulled me through this day at water’s edge. beautiful!
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Many thanks, J.
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your poem is a “foghorn rasping deep and low” echoing the sounds of loves lost and emotional choirs when it moves from part two “lone boat” to part three “ships surrendering” Thank you. Lovely.
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Many thanks for your comments.
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