Diane Mayr, US

 

Tanka   the cat walks across the keyboard she cares not for my uninspired words     manual in hand she watches the faucet leak... dripdripdripdripdrip no longer happy to be single again     afternoon heat... gray cat flops on her side to stretch long against the cool wood floor still and silent as a shadow     soft breezes raise the hairs on my arms tickle my nose with the scent of apples in efflorescence—