Sunday, March 19, 2017

Bridge may ice

bridge may ice,
shoulder ends ahead—
road signs
I see for the first time
soon after her passing

Ribbons, winter 2016/17

Even in Texas, out here in the country, bridges can ice in winter, though we only had a few "real" days of winter this winter.

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Tanka Prose


Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap… Sturdy, manicured nails striking keys. So far, she's asked me three questions to do with my personal information—basically, if it's still correct. "Yes, Yes, Yes," I've responded. The tapping goes on interminably. Why, I have no idea. Elbow on desk, I rest my chin in my palm.
tick tick tick
who am I anyway?
the most I do
in this sterile space
is take a few more breaths
Then more questions—what's a good emergency contact number, if I have a living will, who my next of kin is—the same questions I've been asked a multitude of times before, followed by more tap-tapping on the keyboard. And eventually, she generates a thin plastic wristband to ID me during my brief stay, a stack of papers I must initial and sign (including one reminding me this is a smoke-free facility), and a stapled document I'm supposed to take home (a candidate for the shredder).

Twelve minutes of my life, gone. Not to mention the eighteen or nineteen minutes of wait time beforehand. To think I'm here only for a routine procedure.
painted the color
of the sea ...
deeper, deeper my feet
in imaginary sand

Contemporary Haibun OnlineJanuary 2017, vol. 12, no. 4

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Announcement: March issue of Haibun Today

The March 2017 issue of Haibun Today has been released—my first time as editor of the tanka prose section. Enjoy!

Thursday, February 23, 2017


four letters that ID me ...
Myers and Briggs,
bet you didn't know
I'd paste them on my forehead

Ribbons, Tanka Cafe (theme: "Self-identity"), fall 2016

I'm kind of borderline in the last two test categories (not the first).

Friday, February 17, 2017

Papers, cards, letters

papers, cards, letters 
crammed in every cranny 
of their house … 
I unearth a clipping, 
How to bust a litterer

Frameless Sky, issue 5, fall 2016

I took possession of that clipping. And if my desk weren't so cluttered, I might be able to find it.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

I say goodbye

I say goodbye
to her camellia bush
its bounty
of new pink blossoms
as if nothing has happened

Frameless Sky, issue 4, June 2016

Friday, February 3, 2017

The blueness

the blueness
at this altitude—
before takeoff
I read my horoscope,
your head might be in the clouds …

—Frameless Sky, issue 5, fall 2016

Thursday, January 26, 2017

Bold new signs

bold new signs
at the nursing home
about guns—
I look for glimmers of life
behind the glass doors

Ripples in the Sand, 2016 Tanka Society of America Members' Anthology