the colour of our lives

poetry • celebration • faith • nature • humanity • imperfections • glory

Archive for the tag “tanka”

a slight chance of shadows

weather like bent trees
atmosphere is more than air
even the very leaves
rattle, crisply, its quiet name
in sunlight, dull, metallic

This post first appeared at a slight chance of shadows on Cinquain Fevah!



part of any science
is to sell ideas, schedules;ideas
to obtain knowledge,
to plan assaults on frontiers.
For this, poetry must wait


the driver

The driver hated
us this morning; standing
hard on the brakes, bus
lurching around each corner.
Getting off, we roll our eyes.

The bus, proxy for
argument lost with his wife,
a bullying boss?
In fuming economy
of words, he masters his day

while we, the passive,
are content, simply, to arrive
intact. We accept
out of respect, selfishness,
perhaps self-recognition.




gravity, air and water
strip the weary planet bare;
rocks shrink and change while
ocean-bound, forming, for a moment
in time, a fleeting skin of soil
(and again as a tanka)

rocks shrink and change while
gravity, air and water
strip the weary earth;
a sustaining skin of soil
holds the transience of life


meteor burns a
brief and fading track along
a cool midnight sky
many nights of craned necks show
patience comes before good luck

domestic Tanka

bicycle fixed
a spell of gardening
the path is swept —
distracting himself
while wife and daughter sleep

fetching the paper
in the baby-blue dawn
she spies a bright star
that special one’s mine, she says
bright Venus, racing the sun

of a cool morning
we buy fresh vegetables, fruit
and stop for coffee
“babyccino not too hot,
lady, it burns my tongue”

always her shoes first
then preferably her socks
bare feet are best.

senryū for variety 


running us ragged
a pixie with a dynamo
and fuel to burn —
different blessings come
with stories and quiet hugs

his scientist’s eyes
brighten with a challenge
of the mind —
within, a poet’s heart
cringes and slowly withers

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