Sunday, June 28, 2015

Leaving

There was no house for me to leave
    my structures...maybe.. and sudden light
Nazca lines on fantasy maps, rabbit tracks
    to caves of ice, a winter's hut
guiding me, the Fates of melting ice
    or fire searing a July day.
The reflected I, a blue shadow dance
    yet there, under that world
        something winged
spinning seeds up through an evening
    perfect each in vertiginous climb
        up, up to my night born stars.

Saturday, June 13, 2015

it might be good


it might be good
to give it up
    all that struggle
    the self-improvement thing
it might be good
to just fall free
    into that wholeness
    the big mixed bag
the Silent Unanswering
forget it, go into
    the smell of grass
    a river flow, taking you
                making you
                              new

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

June

the melting mountains
under a morning moon-
summer erasing them both

dark energy

dark energy
a surge of night
peepers from a far off pond
over a final train warning
all in a basketful of my childhood

Sunday, May 31, 2015

Whychus Canyon Walk

Fence lizard
only guy moving fast
High Desert wildflowers
Oregon Sunshine along the rim
bring water and a good hat


tanka - Lorna Cahall

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Good Headlines: Goat Running Around Tumalo

wet logs hissing in the fire

coffee just perfect today

headlines: Goat Running Around Tumalo

I was born in the middle of a war

sounds good to me

........................................



first redwing blackbird

singing at the feeder

"mine, all mine"

hey you, the dried out cattails

just waiting for you and your hungry friends

........................



watch out

ice cracks and refreezes

it must be March

clouds floating over from Southwest

fluffing up over the Cascades

......................................



loud steady dripping

snow melt off the roof

a long icicle lets go

muddy patches of greenest grass

waiting between snow piles

..........................................



black ice  tonight

fish tailing on the curves

home up a high hill

the warm smells of safety

when I open the door







Five Linked Tanka


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