by Chen-ou Liu
people awake
work, eat, and sleep
the Mondays of present
follow the rhythm
of the Sundays in past
Blank years in and out. This is daily life.
And then the sudden moment of being: the stab of memories, the sting of longings, the slaughter of time. There is no screaming tragedy in ordinary life.
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Your tanka prose here plus your haiku on Daily Haiku and haibun on Word Cataysist demonstrate that you are a master of Japanese inspired forms. You practice the Art of Concision. Thank you for contributing to Getting Something Read. Readers here ( may I say it?) are connoisseurs of the short poem. I take the time to read a bit more carefully when I see you are its author.
Amicus poeticae,
Neal Whitman
Neal, I am honored and humbled by your kind words. Many thanks!
Chen-ou