I pressed
his gift
of wildflowers
in the pages
of a heavy book . . .
that I could not get into
American Tanka: between cries, Issue 25, 2015
winter rambling
I come upon snow angels
and bend
to give them halos –
she loved doing that
Ribbons Selected Tanka, Tanka Society of America, Fall 2015
in the big community garden
he stares at tiny seeds
in his little hand
and whispers...
so small
Tanka Café, Tanka Society of American, Fall 2015
my father, the diviner –
of wildflowers
in the pages
of a heavy book . . .
that I could not get into
American Tanka: between cries, Issue 25, 2015
winter rambling
I come upon snow angels
and bend
to give them halos –
she loved doing that
Ribbons Selected Tanka, Tanka Society of America, Fall 2015
in the big community garden
he stares at tiny seeds
in his little hand
and whispers...
so small
Tanka Café, Tanka Society of American, Fall 2015
my father, the diviner –
strange title
I always thought
for a man who preferred
rum over water
A Hundred Gourds, 5:2, March 2016
I walk past
I always thought
for a man who preferred
rum over water
A Hundred Gourds, 5:2, March 2016
I walk past
the street kid
holding out a dirty palm –
the gray day
begins spitting
Spent Blossoms Anthology, Tanka Society of America, Fall 2015
photo: Nitobe Japanese Garden, Vancouver - W. Bourke
© 2015/16 Wendy Bourke
holding out a dirty palm –
the gray day
begins spitting
Spent Blossoms Anthology, Tanka Society of America, Fall 2015
photo: Nitobe Japanese Garden, Vancouver - W. Bourke
© 2015/16 Wendy Bourke