Simply Haiku: A Quarterly Journal of Japanese Short Form Poetry
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Autumn 2006, vol 4 no 3

TANKA

an'ya


humid nightó
bit by a mosquito,
I donít like it! but . . .
being a mother myself,
itís mine to understand

 

loveís direction
how shall I write it? . . .
fickle
as the weathervane
in a spring crosswind

 

what is my life
but bittersweet chapters
deeply coloredó
yet the bird knows enough
to avoid poison berries

 

golf course
the whiteness of swans
on its turf
my father always said
it was his church of choice

 

the symmetry
of this peppered moth
I think about
all the times Iíve been
unremarkable

 

junk yard:
the spectrum of rain
in motor oil
living rainbows under
every wrecked auto

 

spitting rain
a quick pause to toss
her bouquet
plucked out of midair
by the next bride-to-be

 

murky pond
thereís still one half of it
Iíve never seen
what secrets lie beneath
the surface of our love?

 

just kids back then,
shadow-boxing against
the churchyard wall . . .
bright with passion flower vines
we never once noticed

 


an'ya an'ya is editor of Ribbons: Tanka Society of America Journal, and of the bi-annual haiku and tanka journal moonset, whose unique presentation and format features commentary on every poem appearing in each issue.† A frequent award-winner, an'ya's poetry is well-known throughout the world.†