Ice filters my thoughtparticulate and fine whiteclings to my detailsmakes me reconsider thisblundering relationship
he stands in line, waitsregistering his exitthe clerk never smileseach item to its own bagsegregate duty and heart
laying in my bedi wonder what i will misswhile i am sleepingthe darkness holds our secretswitching hour means new life
Tanka Girl is a site dedicated to the Tanka Poetry form operated by Julie Mae Madsen: Blogger profile