Stacey Dye, US




A Tanka Series


atmospheric changes


dawn peeks
over the horizon
by the sun…
she blossoms into day

dark clouds
in the distance
a troubled sky

I seek shelter

fog swirls
about the roadway
giving rise
to images that dart
in and out of my memory



A Tanka Series


from the ocean to the sky


waves form
frothy ribbons on the shore
I touch them…
they vanish like the memories
of those that adorned my hair

molded by invisible hands

against cerulean skies,
divinely sculpted
the ocean
crashes on its beaches
belching remnants…
I yearn for
buried treasure





The wind whips careless fingers
through my tousled hair.

It becomes a caress so tender
I begin to think it must be you.

I turn quickly, only to see a zephyr
pirouette into the woods.





many miles
stretch between us
we are illuminated
by the same pearl moon
can you see it...



harvest moon
glistens through pines
highlights forest floor

moss curtains drape from above
I shadow tattooed earth



my heart
broken into shards
over you...
using glue and blue slivers
I try to make it whole again



candle glow
dances about my room
flames frolic
on walls, curtains

spirits at play



tumbleweeds ramble freely
desert highway
cactus stop signs
no speed limits
wind driven









to the top



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