A Gathering of Tanka
Drum
I
strike a wild drum
calling
feral days awake.
Fleet-hoof
stag watches.
Trees
become his broad antlers
beating
on my deerskin drum.
Love
The
sea of myself
feels
all the rivers at once.
Hear
me, brine creatures:
Somewhere
among all my waves,
a
stream that tastes like my love.
Butcher
How
the lambs cavort!
Dawn
unleashes spring glories;
a
resurrection unclasps
fresh-born
chicks and wet rabbits,
ignorant of the butcher.
Harp
Music
lies unwashed,
fallen
from gesturing hands.
Heavy
as lost years,
silence
rides between the tones
from
out the unwanted harp.
You Were Mine
Life
shows me altars
every
direction I face.
It’s
illogical:
unwanted
wisdom taunts me.
Life
needs altars; you were mine.
Dismantled
Circumstances
lie--
You
think you’re where you should be.
but
one needful night
how
I put you together,
and
how you dismantled me.
Wild
Inside
of a dream
Medusa
uncoils her hair
in
a gnashing stew
of
sea and sky. Unafraid,
I
smooth her snaking wild locks.
Jennifer Pratt-Walter - is a poet and photographer hobbyist.
No comments:
Post a Comment