approaching train

a boy with his hands

over his ears 

as if the noise were gunshots

on the Fourth of July

an old woman seated

on a low railing 

she faces the windows

with rooms as dark

as her black sweater

harvest time

a bale of hay tied

to the horse's back

by a boy who looks younger

than the horse

the future shaped by

the boy's pointed elbows,

the curve of the haystack,

and the bend 

in his grandmother's back

the steady gaze

of gravediggers

two with clenched hands

as though they were still

holding their shovels

Tribute to Vivian Maier

I am currently reading the biography of "the mystery woman," Vivian Maier. There were certain aspects of her childhood that I could relate to. 

It's been a while since I've written a tribute. Some of the tanka will be posted here and others on a separate tribute page.

in her woolen swing coat

with oversized buttons

from the 50s

the self-portrait of a woman 

who's ready for winter

under the olive trees

in Israel

you said you were tired

and asked me 

to wander on without you

out here

in no man's land

the deserted fountain

where I turned my ankle

is that what you wished for

waves of color

an artist transports me

to the Ligurian Sea

the raised flags of galleons

in the mist of uncertainties

survivorship

what if the person 

who taught you how to swim 

was the same person who held you 

under water hoping you'd drown

"this old man, he threw bricks..."

no, that's not how the song goes

even after the bombs fell

and so many of us died

he never changed his tune

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming. ~Pablo Neruda*

Nevermind you've forgotten

your camera.

For them, it's all about

survival--the robins

leafing through spring's journal.

*While I like Neruda's quote, I do not share his political beliefs, especially his embrace of communism and Stalin.