Tanka Poems by Jennifer Pratt-Walter

 

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.