Tanka from GUSTS   


Tanka from GUSTS #26, fall/winter 2017 

                                            selected by Noriko Sato  

a pull

between the earth

and sunlit sky

a knot of petals is untied 

into a flower

                             Natalia L Rudvchev

 

another lizard tail

left at the door…

how many 

identities

I have dropped

                          Jessica Malone Latham

 

a raindrop glistens

on the tip of a leaf

choosing

its moment to fall...

I wait for your story

                                 Keitha Keyes

 


Tanka from GUSTS #25, spring/summer 2017

                                     selected by Elena Calvo

when she was little

he hung a rope swing

onto a sturdy branch

of the big leaf maple…

her ashes now at its roots

                                    Susan Constable


overnight

rain-soaked petals

carpet his grave

so many ways to come 

face to face with heartbreak

                                     Carole MacRury


dangling

from the blue moon,

a silver string…

how to pull myself

out of the dark

                        Louisa Howerow



Tanka from GUSTS #24, fall/winter 2016

                                     selected by Aya Yuhki 

plein air musing 

with brush on canvas 

I borrow nature’s colors 

embracing the totality 

of humble pleasures 

                            Dorothy M. Giangreco



my head tells me 

there’s so little time 

to live 

but my universe 

keeps expanding

                         Gerry Jacobson



the edge 

of a long silence 

between us— 

two swans on the lake

flapping their wings

                           Chen-ou Liu



Tanka from GUSTS #23, spring/summer 2016

                                     selected by Lp Camozzi

questioning 

my very existence

the peony 

blossoms 

so intensely red

                          Paul Smith   


after shower

drops on the lawn shining

in the sun--

in the beginning,

words used to be diamonds

                                      Aya Yuhki


a walk

through the park

hand in hand

talking of times

they tried dating women

                                    Ignatius Fay



Tanka from GUSTS #22, fall/winter 2015

                                   selected by Kath Abela Wilson


lost 

in the sharpening

of my words,

I need a strong blade 

for this broken pencil

                            Sanford Goldstein



a pregnant pause

when our conversation

ripens . . .

apples all gone

from the lower branches

                                 Ken Slaughter


your voice

from somewhere beyond

human hearing . . .

the creak of polished boards

where no foot has fallen

                                 David Terelinck 



Tanka from GUSTS #21, spring/summer/ 2015

                                  selected by Dawn Bruce


playing in the rain

the rain plays with me

opening my mouth

I taste the sky

7 flavors of rainbow

                          Genie Nakano

  

a jarring ring

after hours of waiting—

both cats

follow me

to the phone

                      Ken Slaughter

 

sailing along

black swan parents, brown cygnet

between them

           the peace and perils

           of an only child

                                   Amelia Fielden

 


Tanka from GUSTS #21, spring/summer/ 2015

                                     selected by Ignatius Fay


those questions

we have no answer for—

the curve

of a black swan’s neck

against this cindered sky

                                David Terelinck


sixty

something

so suddenly

encountering

the end game

                   Lp Camozzi


waking up

to silence

of snowfall

I rehearse

my day

            munira judith avinger



Tanka from GUSTS #20, fall/winter 2014

                                   selected by Kurt F. Svatek


on one blossom

two butterflies

we shared

so many joys

in this long life

                        Jeff Seffinga


memories

in the flames’ dance

flickering

your promise

never to leave me

                            Jan Foster


a day filled

with work at the computer

such a treat

to pick up the telephone

and hear your voice again

                                      Jeanne Jorgensen



Tanka from GUSTS #19, spring/summer 2014

                                   selected by Maxianne Berger


floating

through the morning

I fade

from one century to another

writing poems about the past

                                           Margarita Engle


the trees

have rustles

all night long

where can I seek

a comforting thought?

                                   Nu Quang


two foreign girls

on vacation

my cat 

suddenly fluent

in their language

                          Jeff Seffinga



Tanka from GUSTS #18, fall/winter 2013

                                  selected by Carole MacRury



an open atlas

of roads not travelled

this life spent

mapping the small, wild places

with a poet’s pen
 
                                       Claire Everett
 

standing

unwavering

on one leg

the crane

puts me to shame
 
                              
Lesley Anne Swanson

 

she lived

in later years

like a cat

tiny meals, then naps

on a sofa in the sun
 
                               
Kirsty Karkow



Tanka from GUSTS #17, spring/summer 2013

                                     
selected by Maria Steyn


a walk

in the clouds

what else

could we think

this mountain was for?

                                    Michael McClintock 



through the years

so many things have risen

from my dreams

though never once

a butterfly

                        
Paul Smith 



at cock crow

an elderly woman

bicycles the rim road

orbiting the red sky

in slow motion

                        Elizabeth Howard



Tanka from GUSTS #16, fall/winter 2012

                                  
selected by Mike Montreuil


I scavenge

perfect pine cones

from downed trees

unsure if my pail

holds joy or sorrow

                              Janet Lynn Davis


today the rain

turned all the puddles

into ponds

there's never a need to teach

a stone how to sink

                               
Stanford M. Forrester


his sketch

of an empty bedroom

I pace out

questions that need to be asked

about perspective

                                
Carol Purington




Tanka from GUSTS #15, spring/summer 2012

                                       
selected by Chen-ou Liu


as always,

the echoless flight 

of owls

slicing what’s left

of sanity

                    robert d. wilson



Sunday morning

by an inner city wall

two blankets

neatly folded, two bottles

half full -- and that was all

                                  Amelia Fielden


moonlight

upon the water

why do we

give ourselves over to

beautiful illusions?

                             Joyce Wong



Tanka from GUSTS #14,  fall/winter 2011

                           
selected by Pamela A. Babusci


my daughter has

a star named after her

enough light

for a mother's journey

through grief

                            Jan Foster


a white birch

threaded through dark pine

what is it

that compels the human heart

to fall in love?

                                 Michele L. Harvey


a white gate

blown open by the wind

I wonder

what dreams await me

on the other side

                                Paul Smith



Tanka from GUSTS #14,  fall/winter 2011

                                         selected by Tom Clausen


a slice of tomato 

warm from the garden

how dad loved it on toast

with only salt and pepper

and a daughter at his table

                             Caudia Coutu Radmore


there are no

words to describe it

the peace

that comes with easing

a kayak from the shore

                                      Kirsty Karkow


how gracefully

her eyes appear

and disappear

still grieving as she talks

about her husband

                                 Barry George



Tanka from GUSTS #13,  spring/summer 2011

                                     
 selected by Kirsty Karkow

our only child  

grown up and far  

from home—  

I give her tire swing  

a gentle push

                            John Quinnett

 

as if arising 

from long-buried sorrow 

the white willow 

behind my house

overspreads the earth                                        

                                   Jeanne Emrich


healing 

old wounds 

your gift 

of braided bread  

hard crust, soft center                                          

                                  Margarita Engle

  

climbing 

some of the worst terrain…  

can I reach  

the crest of sadness  

and not lose my footing?                                      

                                      Kathy Kituai



Tanka from 
GUSTS #12,  fall/winter 2010

                                       
selected by Paul Smith


adult daughters

gather dandelions

to place

among the flowers

on her casket

                          Brian Zimmer 



winter night

what else can I do but embrace

the darkness

in which nothing and

all things are possible

                                 Cathy Drinkwater Better


signs of an absent child

in the shade

a pile of pine cones

stacked neatly

on the concrete wall

                               Carmella Braniger 



Tanka from 
GUSTS #11,  spring/summer 2010

                                       
selected by David Terelinck


just a gentle breeze 

over the deep blue ocean  

on the day you died  

trees should have been uprooted   

hurled into a blackened sky                                                

                                            Susan Constable  


every spring 

we thin our possessions 

for charity –     

the travel alarm clock

we never take anywhere 
                                          Bob Lucky

                                                                                                                            

no moon tonight 

and the sea breeze has stilled – 

will new gusts  

come from north or south

from your corner or mine? 

                                       
Julie Thorrndyke



Tanka from GUSTS #10,  fall/winter 2009

                              
selected by Claudia Coutu Radmore


hammering

into shape, pounding it out

on the domed anvil;

there is a point when it all

becomes more about the music

                                               Denis M. Garrison


to measure

the space between our hearts

take a crystal

a rain drop or maybe

half a butterfly wing

                                  Jenny Barnard


let's study

the first chapter only. . .

a hippopotamus

is sleeping

under the summer moon

                                       Makoto Nakanishi


Tanka from GUSTS #9,  spring/summer 2009

                                                selected by Janick Belleau

buried earth

a silver carpet – 

maples and I

gaze at the barrenness

we see in each other 
 
                                  Chen-ou Liu
  
 

spring wind

unfolds my memories’ book…

between leaves

a dry lime leaf

and my lost youth
 
                               Magdalena Dale
 
 

the moon

so far to the north

and this chill…

could we both be lost

in a landscape gone awry?
 
                                        Kirsty Karkow

 


Tanka from 
GUSTS #8, fall/winter 2008

                            
selected by Natalia L. Rudychev


I still remember

the way he called

my name

but don't remember now

the way he betrayed me

                                     
Kozue Uzawa


our paths crossed

again today

soundlessly

things of the past

frozen in time

                       
Art Stein


a message from

the soul

but before I can

write it down,

the words evaporate

                  
            Alexis Rotella



Tanka from GUSTS #7, Spring/Summer 2008

                                    
 selected by Amelia Fielden


I am a speck

on this rock in this ocean

lost in endless space

but for this puppy I hold

I am a warm, breathing world

                                            Denis M. Garrison
 

what shall we grow

this Year of the Rat?

I want to seed

the entire valley

in meadowlarks

                             Michael McClintock


at break of day

who leads, who follows

an old man,

unsteady hand outstretched,

an old dog, worried, careful

                                           
Sonja Arntzen



Tanka from 
GUSTS #6, Fall/Winter 2007

                                  selected by Melissa Dixon


going without sound

the deer into the darkness

of dawn

so gently you took your leave

never once looking back

                                          Marjorie Buettner


in a withered 

field, this child,

without mother

drinking dreams from

a bowl of stars

                              robert d. wilson



cat sprawled

on the windowsill

his tail alive

with all that is April

and airborne

                           Barry George



Tanka from GUSTS #5, Spring/Summer 2007

                                            selected by Art Stein


alzeheimer's ward

I bring

my grandmother

a bouquet

of forget-me-nots

                            Stanford M Forrester



women's retreat

deep down in the woods

arriving at our site

we take off

our watches

                        Monika Thoma-Petit


I can see

in the bathroom mirror

someone who

looks like I might

when I am old, someday

                                    Amelia Fielden



Tanka from GUSTS #4, Fall/Winter 2006

                                  selected by Joanne Morcom


a bst or night bird

flies across my field of vision

a dark slash  

between this moment

and this moment                                                                                    

                                  Claudia Coutu Radmore


a homeless woman 

with my face 

may live 

in this town— 

my other side

                        Naoko Kishigami Selland



November gusts

last leaves flutter to the ground—  

in quiet moments 

there is no escaping it 

this feeling of things ending

                                            Thelma Mariano



Tanka from GUSTS #3, Spring/Summer 2006

                                      selected by Giselle Maya

gusts — 

once again 

the birch tree 

with a deep 

bow

           Robert Kusch 

  

salt on my tongue 

pulled into his body's curve 

I dream of conches 

that curl inside my palm 

and whisper of the sea

                                     Beverley George 

  

my favorite things 

best enjoyed in small measure 

like this stillness 

before the morning rush 

as I sit with my tea

                                 Thelma Mariano 
 


Tanka from GUSTS #2, Fall/Winter 2005

                                      selected by Guy Simser


chilly night… 

I huddle by the fire 

drinking Sangria 

and refuse to wonder 

where the hell you are

                                  Joanne Morcom 
  

in forward flight 

between its wingspan, an owl’s 

heart-shaped face… 

small things that go unnoticed 

until they come stgraight at you

                                                 an’ya

wed 

thirty years 

buds 

of the rhododendron 

deep red at the core

                                       Pamela Miller Ness 
  


Tanka from GUSTS #1, Spring/Summer 2005

                                     selected by Kozue Uzawa


May air is softer 

no more soot and snow 

loneliness 

a dark root 

I tug at, and tug at

                                 Anne Cimon 

  

maybe I'll just hang low 

like a few wistful clouds 

and think 

of the many ways 

to write a poem

                             June Moreau 

 

on the north-facing ground 

that never sees the sun 

still clumps of snow and ice— 

things unresolved in me 

make their presence known

                                           George Swede

 

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© Kozue Uzawa 2014