That sunlight
on that, her hair…
not before
☯️
tanka:
I’m talking
to myself–
but he’s
not listening
either
☯️
Night loam…
I’ll convert the fire alarm
to cicadas
☯️
Last call…four frosh
roll a keg
to the alley mouth
☯️
Bus,
rounds the corner–Ah,
wailing spirits!
☯️
Lighting,
thunder…
and one siren
☯️
The rain,
so much like the wind…
I give in
☯️
Summer storm…
thunder talks back to lightning
sometimes
☯️
6:10…
a feather floats
unnoticed
☯️
A history
on one face–
I pass
☯️
She squares
her shoulders…
leaving train
☯️
Closing bridge…
how that steel
shrugs off the Sun!
(In loving memory:
Milton W. Hamlin, 1939-2026
DeAnne T. Hamlin, 1943-2026)
☯️
