Category: War & Politics
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Tanka of wet grass
clear, clean morning air last night’s rain still drips from trees yellow bus brakes grind sullen children go to school childhood stolen chained to chairs 9-13-23
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Draw Two
stray dog drags its chain, stands warily at a distance, tail wags like the metronome on Mrs. Crooks’ piano you edge close, grab the end of the chain dog barks, growls and charges you stand firm, jerk its chain it lays obediently at your feet, whimpers, the dog guides you up the street, stops at…
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Meditation on Ukraine
mud dauber searches along eaves for a place to call home unaware you watch its every move behind overcast skies a plane soars you do not care where it goes, but that tiny wasp is another matter 8-17-23
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lizard haiku for politicians
turns tan straddling fence primary colored anole red, blue, yellow, too 8-16-23
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Atalanta in spandex
What if Atalanta was born a male and her daddy didn’t leave her on a mountain to die What if she hated her father and didn’t need a man to feel empowered What if she wore Spandex to intimidate her suitors because her lady parts were bigger than tiny Greek penises on marble statues What…
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The existential Putin
Sometimes you just have to disappear off the radar …and contemplate if you friends like you or fear you 6-25-23
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The exile
unaffected by its lack of freedom songbird sings from its cage hanging on a hook In the corner you doze in the lap of 21st century luxury unwilling to sing because you feel uncomfortable 6-23-23
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I do not own a gun
My two older sisters had matching dolls. I had cars and trucks, a Roy Rogers’ holster with a silver cap gun. I used to hide in their closet and played with their dolls when no one was around. My mother was a girl scout leader; I know all the songs. I belonged to the boy…
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This is how it ends
like storm litter on the ground you’ll give up trying to hang on wind will push you from your perch someone will come and haul you away maybe you’ll rot in a landfill maybe you’ll ascend In fire pit smoke either way, when your time comes you’ll release your grip and flee 5-1-23
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Monday morning tanka
mist upon water surface tension is broken small circles appear tiny waves rush together drops become one with the whole 4-24-23
My husband's poetry 