I open windows
(another day no poem
written down
only blocks of dead words)
and let the breeze in
Gusts, 20, Fall/Winter 2014
A Room of My Own: Wooden Jesus Tanka
-
slanted sunlight
reaches Wooden Jesus on the cross
I close my eyes
... yet nothing whatever emerges
in my mind or my heart
FYI: This tanka could be read as...