First few days

first few days
into this New Year,
tinsel removed—
I hang up bath linens
the color of spring

—moonset, Spring 2006; While the Light Holds (Magnapoets Anthology Series 2)

I remember what bath towels I'm referring to (they're yellow), and I know when I wrote this tanka (almost exactly seven years ago). Have I really not bought us any new ones since then? That is, except for some cheap decorative ones I hung up in the bathroom of the house we were desperately trying to sell. :o 

Shortened days

shortened days—
scooping out seeds
from butternut squash,
allowing the orange ripeness
to permeate

—Ribbons Tanka Cafe ("leafless autumn" theme), Winter 2006
In retrospect, I suppose I didn't need to say "orange." But it was sooo orange. ;)

photo copyright of Robert Curtis

Those in the USA:  H A P P Y   T H A N K S G I V I N G !

Having lost

having lost

some of the brightness

from my eyes

I choose a new shirt

in cloudless-sky blue

—American Tanka, #21, June 2012

More photos by ImageANAlogy: 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/imageanalogy/

My nose; the green; van Gogh's Irises

my nose
inches from the brushstrokes
of a master. . .
and yet I'm alone
in my own time and space

—red lights, January 2012

                   the green
               in van Gogh's Roses
               vibrant enough
               to be supernatural. . .
               a man just weeks from death

                  

                  —red lights, January 2012               

                                                                               

van Gogh's Irises
arising 
from brushstroked ground
the depth of his
perennial blueness

—Sixty Sunflowers, 2007

I end up making the across-town trek to the museum by myself. It's been many years since I've been there, and the facilities have nearly doubled in size. Midmorning on a weekday: the main parking lot is overflowing, yet oddly I'm the only one roaming the rooms of this particular special exhibit. That is, except for the watchful eyes of a guard, who I guess needs to ensure I don't stuff a work of art into my purse. Still, I manage to get as close to the paintings as possible without actually touching them. Dust-quiet, the only sounds are the conversations of old masters.

*Link to Roses.* *Link to Irises.*