Is it a poppy?
she asks,
and I wonder…
Category Archive: Tanka
It’s simple
I see a carved chair leg
I imagine…
am mush
I am the salt
left behind…
do you ever hold still so long
you wonder if your toes
remember how to flex…
I tipped the bowl toward me
and it spilled…
sometimes you write a poem
on a tissue…
sometimes
you breathe in the sunshine…
5 conversations swirling around me,
4 chambers in my brain…
not even a bad day,
some bad moments…
my digital signature
doesn’t quite match mine…
Daily Poets 