Fog slips down the hill
kissing windows and roads I
slide into my mind
and wonder where you are
who you have become
A Tanka.
Writer in San Francisco, CA

I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness
Fog slips down the hill
kissing windows and roads I
slide into my mind
and wonder where you are
who you have become
A Tanka.