English, a foreign mistress,
gives me misty eyes
as I write in anguish.
I, a word apprentice,
thwarted by time's passing,
pine to be a poet.
Words, lost in translation,
are empty spaces in between,
as I compose my poem.
February, 2009 issue of Word Catalyst
Poetic Musings: Heated Bodies Tanka by Jane Reichhold
-
almond nails
pressed into brown skin
a faint perfume
of two heated bodies
touching light as petals
*A Gift of Tanka*, 1990
Jane Reichhold
Commentary: J...
