Washed up

water riddled path

washed up by the winter drops-

shards of a mirror

watching the reflections move

I count the steps on and back

.

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Three Talking Tanka

Trail of slaughter vans

Floating through thick waves of fog

Roosters stay silent.

Headlights piercing through whiteness

Making the world glow orange.

.

Huddled together

The crowd of evening walkers

Some amble haughty.

A blow comes chilling of wind,

Pace slows down of eager ones.

.

Bells start ringing loud

Chants emerge from the within

Where they say God is.

Thinking through warmth of blanket

I hear my wild thumping heart.

.

I am linking it up with When I Write Tanka (Part 1)- Hisashi Nakamura.

Image source– Artwork titled Winter Fog by Victoria Heryet.

Nightly tunes

melancholic tunes

emerging from the dark night

an ode to the lost

sung by awakened spirits

heard by solitary hearts

.

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Face of Nature

the face of nature

blend of green, blue and crimson

invoking senses

through the miracles it hides

within a bag oozing life

.

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Petals

bleeding pain and hurt

those dew encrusted petals

engulfed by darkness

smothered by painful desires

bloom in my black heart

.

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