April – week 1

cold April wind —

like icy raindrops

the blackbird’s

song notes

fall

~

so many words

swallowed with my tears…

perhaps you’ll listen

now that night’s cold shoulder

glistens with birdsong

~

scratched into

the whiteboard sky

the crow’s caw

~

every dusk different

every dusk the same…

a blackbird

high in the blue-green firs

I love you on your lips

~

my younger brother

asks to play chess —

the chaffinch’s wings

~

nothing’s black and white

in this game of words

She takes my queen

and leaves me

speechless

~

April showers…

I remember how many times

I watched Bambi

~

looking back

through banded light and shade…

with sable-soft strokes

the roe deer of a memory

brushed into the firs

~

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This entry was posted in haiku, micropoetry, pentastich, tanka and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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