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.

black-coated scratchboards

we create our own

vision

of radio filaments 

found in the milky way

Milky Way 1,000

restless pacing

the jangled nerves

of throwaway keys

how being stressed out

starts on the inside

it's not the steps

or the four flights of stairs

to room 458--

what bothers me is knowing

that you won't be there