Sunday, March 11, 2012

Tanka Sequence


the summer sun
fills up the empty house
for no one's pleasure;
each day the same as before
the same as tomorrow

blacks holes for windows
tilting porches and worn paint
the flying dust
spiraling into ghosts
of decades past

it groans and creaks
and settles into dust
the decaying house
its cries ignored
its past forgotten

Modern English Tanka, July 2009

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Gillena Cox said...

empty dreams -
tug at the desolate
washed up
from angry ocean spheres
where waves throttled mayhem

much love...

Adelaide said...

Thank you, Gillena, for your poetic response. So much sorrow in this world.


Frank... said...

A bitter=sweet sequence, Adelaide.I like a lot...

Adelaide said...

Thank you, Frank. It's sad to see these abandoned buildings- houses, farms, stores... Someone's dream and livlihood gone.


Bill said...

Strongly empathetic.

Adelaide said...

Thank you, Bill.