Tanka by Janice M. Bostok

 

 

 

the cat put down

its touch against my leg

no longer there

just as you aren’t

when i turn to look

 

 

 

a large black swan

begging for food —

in similar request

would my voice hold

such pure fluting notes

 

 

 

in old age

i’m becoming childlike

once more unable

to stay within the lines

when colouring in memories

 

 

 

coming inside

the after-image of sun

everywhere

I look and look

remembering the pain

 

 

 

unknown to her

outside the closed door

i timidly stand

listening to flute notes

borne on her gentle breath

 

 

                  

 

Tanka Sequence:

 

FROM THE MOUNTAIN

 

from the mountain

night comes more quickly

to the valley

a naked man rides bareback

through the dark pass

 

 

the slipping sun

shades evening bird song

cool air reaches out

from the timber line — as rider

and horse move in unison

         

 

the evening breeze

a stream of passion flowing —

morning light reveals

the horse has become lame

and the mountain pass is closed