Forest eats our house
Mold, mushrooms, banana slugs
Decay what we build
Death and beauty hand in hand
Show us our impermanence
Category Archives: tanka
nonwidowhood
mom’s not a widow
she’s still married to my dad
even though he died
she brings him morning glories
he brings her one pure white rose
They never told me mourning would be beautiful
mourning happens most
when forest plants die, decay
underneath our feet
feeds new life and feeds new love
mourning: sad but beautiful
Poem every day
I promised myself
to write poems every day
springtime in my heart
flowers blossom inside me
I plant poems by the road
Scent
love can mean urine
sprinkled all around the house
sharing of your scent
I stopped that at age twenty
admiration: you still dare
Adaptation
Tefnut stalks redwoods
creates mist and dampened soil
as a mountain lion
lioness in the Two Lands
elsewhere She takes local forms
Beard Locket (RIP Ronald Baggs, 1941-2014)
I will wear your beard
in clear locket round my neck
till my own sunset
your beard was once part of you
now it is a part of me
Grandma in Mourning
when my grandpa died
mom helped grandma sort her things
they found her hope chest
mom said what they’d found, grandma
said “you mean my hopeless chest.”
The Last Thing I Said To My Father (RIP Ronald Baggs, 1941-2014)
last thing said aloud
to my father was a purr
he knew what I meant
I purred again and again
wished the last purr never came
Last Time I Hugged My Father (RIP Ronald Baggs, 1941-2014)
our tears fell like
redwood forest winter rain
when Ron left my house
we knew we’d never again
physically embrace, alive
Amelia Evelyn Voicy Baggs 