drought
a cactus wren sips
from the garden hose
Author: Don Miller
Don Miller lives in southern New Mexico, USA. He has been writing tanka since the early 1980s, and has had his tanka, tanka sequences, tanka prose, and other short-form poetry published on a somewhat regular basis in various print and online journals since the early 2000s.
Flashpoint 572
In early May he assisted with logistics and media on one of the big forest fires burning in northern New Mexico. This was my son’s first battlefield
late innings in the stands gathering dust
folding prayers. . .
a thousand paper cranes
kindling
this flame
for peace
returning
to the vanishing point
in the blue hour
five lonely notes
of a mourning dove
razor sharp
with his divisiveness
wrapping
the border wall
in concertina wire
I am drawn
to the darkness
drifting through an arroyo
the distant call
of coyote
drought
the rain gauge
two-tenths dust
day at the park
picnic blankets blanketed
with cherry blossoms
a stone
next to a frozen pond
I long to skip
to another time
another place
frozen
in silence
the depth of the old pond
lake reflection. . . .
the hint of cherry blossom
with my wine
Feast of the New Year —
cactus wren
darting for snowflakes!
autumn thunder
in the distance
a train whistle
masquerade ball …
the hunter’s moon peeks
through parting clouds
pigeons
scatter through the park
cherry blossoms on a breeze
withered
near the fountain
a sunflower dips its head
moon shadow
the pyracantha
grows across the floor
entwined . . .
this thought of spring
rises with the moon