I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.)

They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your posts as much as possible.

3 March 2010

After the storm: February Tanka 2010

wet sand gets kicked up
as the dog runs towards me
where I stand my ground
it circles and skirmishes
then dashes back down the beach


Did it happen? No,
I dreamed it. Then I wrote it
as a tanka. What
does it all mean? Whatever
you may choose to make of it!


his yearly heart check
I drive the rainy highway
drop him off then search
half an hour to park in mud
his check-up my stress


after the storm
the morning air is fresh
we open wide
the doors to the garden
a soft breeze for breakfast


shadows fall
and the light on the grass
starts to shrink

it is the clouds massing
behind your departure



  1. mm, like that last one. it feels particularly tanka.

  2. Thank you.

    That was the one in which I finally remembered that they're supposed to be romantic. :)

  3. Oh, I so like that last one! :)

    ('too,' she adds, reading the previous comments!)