Tanka
At long
last, the rain!
Forecast for today alone,
the mouths of the earth
open wide, the leaves like tongues
drink and pray it’s salvation.
In the
cool stillness
before dawn lifts its ribbons
of soft pastel hue,
lowering their velvet necks,
deer sip from the quiet spring.
The
sun hastens down
to clothe the trees in shadow.
The last cicada
unwinds its harsh, rhythmic song,
rapidly falling away.
Butterfly Cinquain
How It
Goes
The path
loses itself
where the heron alone
hears syllables passing through
the trees;
a path once trod
by unseen feet whose steps
can still be heard falling in the
distance.
Envelope Quintet
The
Tree of Corruption
Aberrant
its twisted pattern of growth,
Its habit of producing glossy fruit;
Clusters of carrion-scented berries,
Blood-red and sweet, born of blistering root.
I harvest them yearly despite my oath.
About Brian Zimmer, US
Brian
Zimmer writes from the Midwest, United States. His
work has appeared in various print and online journals.
