a selection of Tanka Poets on Site prompts:


leaf by yellow leaf

the squirrel lines its drey …

she has gone

to gather kindling,

the child I used to be


a sycamore seed

in the wings of autumn

waiting for the breath

that is my cue

to dance



is the scent of summer. . .

not yet five

the pod in my hand

plump with peas


I plot a course

between the brightest stars,

a Viking maid

sailing the simmer dim . . .

this first breath of salt-air



flurries of starlings

with winter on their wings

the poetry

of homemade seedcake

in my daughter’s hands


through rust-stained dreams

rain’s syncopated rhythm

since your words

made a tin roof

of my heart


they call him a weed

and suddenly he sees

only dandelions

sun-rayed, or drifting by

their heads in the clouds


rock to rin gong

how far from there to here?

copper is my hair

in the morning light

and your touch is my song



a loop-the-loop of stars

one last barrel roll

before the dream has me

wing walking on a new day



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