Make your own free website on Tripod.com
  TANKA LIGHT
 

                                                                       (August 2000 edition)
 
 

TOM CLAUSEN:
 
 

beneath the open
library window
she wakes slightly to stretch
and beautifully
change position 

 
 
so many chances
in a day
to say something to you,
but here it is
growing late 

 
 
what a surprise
she wants to take a photo
of us together-
I keep thinking
about it

 

THELMA MARIANO:
 
 
 

the same sun
shimmers on the water
this morning
yet I stare in wonder
these feelings oh so new

 
 
midnight sky -
I can almost glimpse you
among the stars
probing time and space
until we meet

 
 
city street
empty in the morning
before traffic rush
my life too will fill again
with the sights and sounds of you

 

JUANITO ESCAREAL:
 
 
 

roosters crowing
back and forth 
at dawn 
in the store's bodega* 
my cockerel crows too 

  *known in the Philippines as a store's stockroom
 
 
 

returning 
to her limp wrist 
the jeweled bracelet: 
a lover's promise 
for the afterlife 

 
 
afterward 
the family gathers 
for photographs 
as new grass is gently laid 
on our mother's grave

 

PAUL MacNEIL:
 
 
 

hand in hand
to walk a tree-lined path
a sunbonnet day
mother and daughter sharing
smiles and freckles

 
 
recalling
a different sunset's path
across the waves
my tear flows
and empties to a stop

 
 
the purpled blue
of jacaranda
a full sky
another year
without her

 

JOANNA WESTON:
 
 
 

I pull roads from the map 
tie them to my feet
and walk all day
but still I cannot 
find you

 
 
 
our wedding rings
circle you, child
with your name
printed
between us

 
 
we sing
with car-windows open 
words whipping out
to lift and scatter
like spurned gravel

 

PENELOPE DAVIS GREENWELL:
 
 
 

the annuals
along the fenceline
bow low to earth;
such an unforgiving season
and no kind word from you

 
 
a long night -
I watch the rain continue
after you've gone
the scent of overripe plum
on my hands

 
 
how unbalanced
this table alone
in the corner -
two chairs, one plate
and no one to pass the salt!

 

DEBI BENDER:
 
 
 

late afternoon
the sundown steals
my shadow, too ...
if only it would take
my solitary emptiness

 
 
above pointed pines
a field of patterned stars
trail markers
how could we have lost our path
when the heavens shout glory?

 
 
Elm branch -
the half-lit moon
becomes a leaf;
In ink, how brightly
your words shine!

 

PHILLIP WOODRUFF:
 
 
 

rugged hillside
a massive ram stands
full curl
as if he knew
i came to see him

 
 
black elk spoke
of one last ghost dance
visions
as smoke, his words
drift into my eyes

 
 
plums
plump on the limb
for making wine
wasted, i find
only dust in my cup

 

ELIZABETH ST JACQUES:
 
 
 

that quiet niche
behind the public school
old maple grove
how many times we shared
girl-talk there

 
 
still morning . . .
on the giant marigold
a butterfly rotates
this day in wide circles    
i too go

 
 
sunset glow . . .
the brilliant shine
of that drop of dew
    will it ever shine like that
    again for us?

 BACK TO CONTENTS PAGE