I leave the bed
and coffee unmade.
It's 2 am and I'm off
to the hospital driving
with my sun visor down.

feeling taller after 
a good morning stretch
I hunch over my checkbook
shrinking a little more
after each bill

they met here years ago
installing park equipment
once again
they climb the steep hill 
and rest on bench 19

hundreds of stories
in those gnarled hands
he works through his pain
by peeling the labels
off pill bottles

burying the embers
of an October campfire
there's no debate
Trump's "locker room" talk
is about sexual assault

yellowstone
on a clear day
wildness echoes
in the mountains of bison
crossing the prairie

From February 1, 2010 to October 25, 2010, I wrote a tanka a day. I fell short of writing 365 tanka due to vision problems which have since been corrected. I will continue to post tanka to my blog but not as frequently as I did in 2010.

no matter how much it hurt

she felt disconnected 

from the lost clumps of hair

the same way she tried to disconnect

from being raped again

muted tv

the silent bats 

of baseball players

we miss hearing dad

call the strike zone

not what I 
was expecting
at the edge of a cornfield
a deer bedded down
for the night