Race the Moon – A Tanka Sequence

July 12th, 2012

Race the Moon

cicadas
shift the summer heat
into the maples
now I am my daughter
both hands in the mud

nearly bedtime
but we go outside
to race the moon
down the street
to the stop sign

once poor Vietnamese
now middle class Americans
the thick pork fat
in children’s bowls
left untouched

her son’s ashes
held close to her chest
the weight
the same as when
he was a baby

the things I say
about my mother
are the same things
my daughters will say
about me

the little girl
runs to touch the robin
on the lawn chair
how quickly our summer
flies back south

[Ribbons, Vol. 8 No. 1 Spring/Summer 2012]

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