.
Published in red lights, volume 18, no. 2, June 2022
.
.
with healing hands
placed over my heart,
I hear its whispering
voice between beats—
forgive, forgive, forgive
~~~
Category Archives: poem of understanding
Inner Life . . . (tanka)
The third (and last) tanka published in the latest issue of Gusts:
does inner life
start or end in the heart
I heard it for the first time
in a deep red canyon,
that distant river of me
GUSTS no. 35, Contemporary Tanka,
Spring/Summer 2022 Tanka Canada
A gathering basket . . . (tanka)
a gathering basket
filled with rosehips & hazels –
why is it so hard
to put back all the bits
and pieces you left behind?
Published in GUSTS: Contemporary Tanka 33 (Tanka Canada)
burning anger
Moonbathing, Issue 23, Fall/Winter 2020
hot roasted nuts
heaped into a paper cone –
all that burning anger
you hold onto
so tightly
Photograph by Monika Topolko
As an aside, I am realizing my age is showing. Do young people today even know about folks roasting chestnuts (or other nuts) and buying a brown paper cone full of piping hot nuts to eat on the street? I first came across this in Istanbul when I was young. The scent, heat, taste on a chilly autumn afternoon was one of those moments that has stayed with me all my life. Europeans had this custom, but does anyone still do this? The fragrance was so tempting.
Catching up!
Today I realized I’d forgotten to post a number of poems published this year (2020), so here they are. I hope you enjoy reading them.
Ribbons 16:2 (spring 2020)
.
icebergs drift and melt
and furious fires rage
will this earth dissolve
into rivulets
of decisions poorly made?
~
Frameless Sky, Issue 12, 2020
soft ripe plums
sitting on the sideboard ~
wouldn’t it lovely
to know you’re
so desiredPresence 66
.
tiny fledglings
with wings outstretched
take that first leap—
how old were we
when doubt began~
wind spilling
from copper rain bells
unbroken drought.
~
impossible
to count them
fireflies
Bitter wind
I am delighted to have one tanka and two haiku in the latest issue of Presence:
Presence, Issue 67, July 2020
bitter wind
the maple’s heart
still frozen
~
once so innocent
we had to make up sins
. . . first confession
~
I tried to bury
those memories
for so long…
the raw scent
of freshly plowed earth
A Poet in Time 