Blithe Spirit 29:4, 2019 (two tanka)
the familiar scent
of lemon oil rubbed
on old wood –
a new cat finds a place
in your empty chair
* * *
on the ground
a nest of hatchlings
fallen from a tree –
how well you always
hid your pain
A Poet in Time
One Poet's Writing Practice
A Poet in Time 