On the hydrangeas

the weight of the morning sun

the evening sun


---Otsuyu


Two tanka for my mother

1/
in wooden armchair
my mother no longer knits
slip, stitch and pass
the piece she made wholeheartedly
was raising a wayward son

2/
the meaning of getting old
my mother told me about
hair loss
I realize how hard it is
to say an early goodbye

1 comment:

diana l. said...

You have captured a feeling that, sadly, I, too, have experienced. I am sorry for your loss. Amen to the last line.