Three Tanka – B Gourley

I
plucking strings
the player feels each note,
his eyes closed
he lets himself be surprised
by vibrations of bone or soul

II
the butterfly
splays its wings and holds,
in that stillness
it becomes a flower
’til it must butter-fly

III

wind tousles
the grain-weighted heads
of ripe wheat
the sway is erratic
the sound is subtle

online at: https://berniegourley.com/

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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