By Jenny Ward Angyal
Gibsonville, NC, USA
forests
burning far away
I bow
to the wood thrush
singing orisons unseen
I follow a path along the brook, through mountain laurel and rhododendron. The stone hut stands half-hidden among the trees, its roof green with moss. Thick, curved walls enclose an oval of coolness in the summer heat. Elliptical windows admit a little light. As my eyes adjust, I notice a message chalked on the sloping ceiling:
maybe
the world isn’t dying . . .
maybe
she’s heavy
with child
*Note: The second tanka is a ‘found poem.’
~From my book Earthbound: Tanka-Prose & Haibun, 2022