a poem in my pocket

drones hover and hum

flit above late summer crops

predator pilots

observe stealth landing

“what is it, grandma?” child asks

investigation

photo by lynn

my life is a ripe pumpkin
connected to the earth
growing green from the
hard work of soil where
i put down roots to vine
out from the tender shoot
of youth into fruitful years,
orange and mellow with
graced blessings, full;
yet, intermingled with the

photo by lynn

seeds of good intentions
hidden inside me, ooze
slimy memories strung
with sticky emotions; sin.
i desire to be cleaned up,
hollowed out of my muck
and filled with radiant light;
though the carving might
be painful, i will wear a
genuine smile on my face,
aglow with true wisdom.

Linking to Bjorn’s metaphor challenge at dVerse Poets’ pub: “Meeting the Bar”.  My poem’s theme inspired by children’s book: The Pumpkin Patch Parable by Liz Curtis Higgs.

desperate pilgrims

risked medieval roads and thieves

hoping to be saved

worst thief was catholic church

selling salvation for gold

Canterbury Tales

Not sure if church commentary is appropriate for a tanka but the true church of Christ should always be re-forming ourselves according to scripture.

windstorm passes through

time to pick up sticks again

branches down in grove

price paid for shaded farmstead

how nature attacks her own!