are we there yet?

 

skimming a stone
across a dream
where Hebe
pours her nectar…
ankle-deep in stars

 

 

all the love letters
you never wrote…
my lips on your neck
where my name was inked
skin-deep

 

 

digging deep
in the pockets of my dreams…
in the broken barn
the wattle and daub
of the swallows’ nest

 

 

A selection of my responses to NaHaiWriMo and Tanka Poets on Site prompts from the last few days.

 

 

 

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