too late for fireflies-
on a dark country lane
the walking is slow
the crest of each wave-
a bright shimmer
before the crash
rising tide-
the sea spray swallowed
by fog
rotted tree stump-
assorted weeds
deeply rooted
Taj Mahal Review, June 2009
Tanka Prose
What Remains We are newly married, live in an apartment, have no garden, but for entertainment we browse nurseries. On an impulse, we bu...
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