monotonous fall
of winter waves
on the sandy beach ...
Father murmurs to me,
We'll die one day, each alone
Atlas Poetica, 29, 2017
A Room of My Own: July 4th Reflection Tanka
-
not down in the gutter
or high in the cirrus clouds ...
at thirty
holding a cubicle job
I stare at the fireworks-lit sky
FYI: I was reminded of the followi...