Simple Tanka Prose for the Seasons
Harusaki On the probing black finger ends of maples now the palest buds where someone has dusted them with green […]
Harusaki On the probing black finger ends of maples now the palest buds where someone has dusted them with green […]
I asked people at souvenir shops, bakeries, at Circle Ks for directions to Konpukuji Temple, but no one had heard
tar pit an urge for immortality only an eternal present jackhammer the wasp’s face what friendship
third day hosting in-laws I remind them about the poison ivy caterpillar’s odyssey same fate any direction
The willows whipped us along the banks of the Crow River, the wind-driven lashings hustling us along on our cobbled
Adapted Haiga A certain sorrow cannot bear this suit. Bowing politely, it guides us home. It washes the body, revealing