Tanka Journal poet

Bobby Aldridge

6 poems in Issue 1, Issue 3, Issue 4, Issue 5

Gray weathered oak treecrushed by prevailing winds,leaning on my arm.She pulls rolls from the ovenand doesn't notice the heat.Old bricks crumbling,hot, cold, many seasonsthe building topples.So much rubble in the street,won't even make garden paths.Humiliated–petals circle peoniesafter stormy nights.Your voice on the phone sobbing,you cannot recall the wind.How many colorscan green be on rolling hillsin southern summers?Family reunion season,relatives I've never metKneel at the altarher white foliage flowingmy eternal rose.Fragrant summer eveningsspent remembering springtime.

Issue 1Issue 1 →

my grandfather's handsare hard to slip through his sleevesrigid and frail the cicada shell, open, clinging to a tangled yew

Issue 3Issue 3 →

kiss me, hold me closewarm me against the winterI remember spring what do red squirrels dream of twitching, trying not to wake

Issue 3Issue 3 →

Tiny frogs jumpfrom dark and rainy roadwaysto strike passing cars I hear the popcorn popping and remember Florida

Issue 4Issue 4 →

The evergreens waitalone on the mountainsideknowing fall will come dressed up in their summer clothes they still court, as in their youth.

Issue 4Issue 4 →

UnexpectedlyI smell the fragrant roseswafting in the breeze. I try not to wake you up, I'm supposed to be sleeping.

Issue 5Issue 5 →