cool as cats
terracotta dim
footsteps echo
in summer silence bee-buzz
enough to fill your absence
Tag: tanka
Tanka for the end of the cold
sun melts its butter
on afternoon fields wind blows
still winter sharp
dig deep into warming earth
plant spring unfold summer
For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge. An afternoon of gardening, clearing and planting. The smell of violets was overpowering.
I cheated a bit. It isn’t cold at all now, but since Ash Wednesday isn’t a thing in these parts…
Tanka for another moon
For Frank Tassone’s weekly haikai challenge.
again the moon
full ripe a fruit for plucking
a pearl for diving
standing in rising waters
a silver path ripples
Tanka for looking ahead
Ingrid is running a tanka challenge over at EIF. You have six days to enter!
still the sky fills
water-grey sleet-chill over
furrowed earth waves
heavy clay on my boots
reminds me of spring sowing
Tanka for a frozen morning
For Frank Tassone’s weekly haikai challenge.
when dawn breaks like ice
on a frozen puddle light
falls brittle sword-sharp
no fire flares in those streams
of cold brilliance only hope
Tanka for harvest moon
For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge.
sunflower heads hang
beneath the weight of seeds
we look away
when beauty withers—its gold
faded even by moonlight
Equinox tanka
Fun with Google translate, or the perils of trusting a machine to make poetry.
sun moon day night
balanced the space of a day
before earth tips spills
rain fills thirsty mouths washing
summer’s dust-dry taste away
gives this (inaccurate) French translation:
soleil lune jour nuit
équilibré l’espace d’une journée
avant que la terre ne tombe
la pluie remplit la bouche assoiffée de se laver
le goût sec de l’été loin
then back-translated to English:
sun moon day night
balanced for a day
before the earth falls
the rain fills the thirsty mouth to wash off
the dry taste of summer away
Tanka for a dream of cooler weather
It’s still far too hot here. Up again to 38°C/100°F and it’s going to be hot all this week. The break in the weather gets put back further every day.
For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge.
receding into
the distance the autumn mists
cool of orange leaves
we thought we could bear no more
flames—I hear their crackling still
Tanka for swallows
For Frank Tassone’s haikai challenge.
evening swallows flock
swooping through gnat-rich air
sweeping the sky
summer’s lingering heat
billows with bird memories
Tanka for morning glory
For Frank Tassone’s haikai prompt.
before the sun burns
morning glory trumpets
an echo of
sunset purple—night nestles
among leaves even at noon