Tanka by Michael McClintock



when you opened
my letter
were you surprised
my heart
fell out?

(Tanka Splendor Awards, 2004)


the mausoleum
and weeping willows
inside the old brooch --
slowly it dawns on me
they are made of hair

(Tanka Splendor Awards, 2004)


carrying the sun, the clouds,
the mountains easily --
       a small stream
       wandering unnamed
       in this wild place

(The Tanka Anthology, 2003)


for breakfast
I'll give you bread
but for the afternoon
please carry the worms
and let's go fishing

(San Francisco International Tanka Contest 2003, Honorable Mention)


the old ways
back to the fields
reliably
when winter ends
the water remembers

(Tanka Society of America Quarterly Newsletter, March 2004)


for longevity
I drink this tea
of rare herbs;
on the hazy peak
an old pine gathers dew

(Bottle Rockets No. 10, 2004)


an old photo
of my parents
young and happy --
      of all the things I own
      that is the saddest

(The Tanka Anthology, 2003)