Tanka on Tuesday 4.14

after the cold winds

a blanket of onion snow

blue skies overhead

robin on a budding branch

cocks his head curiously

onion snow

white blanketed ground

sun haloed in fogginess

six budding crocus

one robin leaves footprints, looks

quizzically at the snow


snow mantled pine trees
shake off winter’s heavy coat
startled, three deer bolt

detecting a blind spot

I won’t love you

even as I sweep
your fallen, broken stars
into dusty piles
waiting on the linoleum
for the recycling bin

or sop up the salty tear-drop
remnants from your heart
broken over melted snow
held too tightly
in your warm, closed hand

during the solar eclipse
I sneaked a dangerous glimpse
at the gloriously hiding sun-
sometimes even stars and snowflakes
are only second place

caught in the moment

outside my window
chickadees fornicating
cheeping merrily
notwithstanding the watchers
nor the final glaze of snow

Thanks to the bard for the chickadee thought …