Tanka Prose

 BETWEEN THE BRICKS    

 

Poor inchworm. Back and forth across the tabletop. Down a table leg.  Halfway, it turns and climbs up again. Crosses the top once more to another leg.

                                                    there was a time

                                                    when I had to choose

                                                    love or adventure

                                                           was it luck or wisdom

                                                           that my choice gave me both?

The little worm takes a leap with its invisible thread, nearly reaching the bottom. Continues on, finally reaching the ground, crawls away. I lose sight of it when it disappears in a crack.

                                                   bird calls and wind

                                                   the shuffling of leaves 

                                                   the shuffling of time

                                                           what I did and did not do

                                                            and where I’ll be tomorrow  

Haibun Today, Tanka Prose,

March 2017