Rain tumbles, birds swoop,
music floats from the red house–
An old man, his piano,
a candelabra, her face.
Sarah, this is so moving.
Yes, that old fellow’s music never fails to move me. It sort of floats from his house and rises, to mingle with the smell of autumn woodsmoke. I could go on and on…
I am just trying to catch up and am so far behind in my blogging. But I came upon this in my inbox. I must have kept it for some reason, I thought. Just reread it and got chills of appreciation. Oh, yes, THAT’s why I kept it there. It lives there still!
Yes, I get very behind, too, and save my favourites in my inbox for later comment. I’m glad you liked the tanka.
Do you think I need to post something to explain more about tanka poetry, as I’m not sure everybody is as familiar with this form as they are with haiku?
I think that’s a great idea. I would like to know more about it.
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Writes quirky novels, speculative flash fiction, haiku and tanka. Nature lover. Novice photographer. Allotment freak. Mezzo soprano. British eccentric.
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© Sarah Potter and sarahpotterwrites 2012-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sarah Potter and sarahpotterwrites with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.