Musings... on early Jan

[Tanka]
*
hid her face
her wavy tresses
in nightly breeze
the moon vanished
from a poet's view

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a lark sings
springtime tune
at dead hour
my toes explore
icy corners

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newborn day
rests on windowsill
lips curved
a tint of smile
in obscureness

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(c)Arunansu Banerjee 2010