Saturday, December 10, 2016

Winter Tanka

if you need
to live insatiably
you'll need thorns
not leaves, for thorns
have no fear of winter

i see stars
being born from your tears
and wonder how
your guarded grief would steer
our young tomorrow

the glint
in the eyes
of a squirrel--
a bright new day
for the blessed ones

a chorus
of whispers
still haunts--
time never moves
for the saxophone man
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