May 2013

tadpole jar —
the long day's escape
into dreams

autumn's end —
the moon pierces my doubts
with its light

reclusive spring —
sinking back to its source,
a twisting eel

tussock mist —
dewdrops rise into
their own

night bird . . .
silence leans into
its cry

watercolour —
a swollen river muddies
a painted sea

closet moon . . .
a recluse comes out
of hiding

dead silence —
a falling leaf
enters it

autumn rain —
concealed in the night,
the moon and me

stillness —
stained glass fluttering
though the ruins

chill moon —
trees rustle the colour
of the wind

how predictable!
the poet's exclamation
goes on and on . . .
another tanka flounders
under too many syllables

autumn light —
coolness filters through
butterfly wings

shallow stream —
leaf shadows drift
over stones

silent spring —
stillness hovers
in the wings

autumn night —
my eyes skim over
an endless sky

night rain —
older than last year,
the sound

morning mist —
a black swan shapes
its own past

pastel moon,
sinking into
a daydream

autumn night —
at the heart of it
this black hole

casting shadows
tonight's same old moon
doubting me

cowering clouds . . .
over the chasm's edge
a dream of flight

mirror mist —
an iceberg drifts
through my eyes

autumn rain
a grass blade resonates
within it

autumn dusk —
shadows become all
just like that

wordless night —
rain's sound enters
the pool's depths

being now the am which will have been

not so green,
a falling leaf spirals
through its is-ness

insomnia!
night conjugates 'to be'
through the tenses

stormy night —
the distance between
then and now