how slowly
the old house crumbles
a heap of stone
long before the fire
burned all my love
This tanka may eventually become part of a longer chain of haiku and tanka about the house where I spent my early years - a well of sorrow, a thorn, a dead tree.
Published in Makata International Poetry Journal [http://www.dalityapi.com/makata], Vol. 6, No. 3, March 2005.
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