Poetry:  Haiku, Senryu, Tanka & maybe more

cold rain
a red bow droops
from the wreath

frogpond, 2020. 43(1): p. 39.

Twenty years married

so fast - as the cliché goes

blurred energies

love and respect – the fuels

then, now, and moving forward

Ribbons, 2019. 15, Spring/Summer, p. 38

bonsai

trained, pruned

and repotted regularly

that good job

in a big company

Cattails, 2019. October 2019: p. 65.

looking fragile

the Limber Pine hangs on

in a niche

retired now

sending roots into new ground

Ribbons, 2019. 15  Fall(3): p. 55.

March sunshine
the city starts to unwind
kids on park swings

Cattails, April 2020, p18.

Greenland
walking on a glacier
history
      melting
      under my feet

Ribbons, 16 Winter 2020 (1), p25

humming
transformer on a pole
working
Eduardo - hums softly
send his earnings home

Cattails, April 2020, p.73

sunset
my shadow stretches back
toward morning

The Heron's Nest, December 2020 

fires
keep killing people
lost in pandemic numbers

Bones, Nov 15, 2020, p138

the shift
of the earth's polar rotation
a disturbance
my daughter's off to college
my frame of reference changes

Ribbons, 2020, 16(3) p57

rain sleet mix

windshield wipers keeping time

singing to myself

Frogpond, 2021, 44(1)

sunset

my shadow stretches back

toward morning

The Heron's Nest, 2021, 22(4) p8

cicadas

canticles for evensong

I sit quietly

navigating thought traffic

in a crazy roundabout

2020 TSA Anthology

© 2020 Robert Erlandson