tanka prose (roots)

by Janet Foor

Coffee cup in hand, I enter the garden and pick my first bouquet of lovely lily-of-the-valley. The white bell-shaped flowers hang from their tiny stems. Their sweet fragrance transports me back to Momma’s house where they freely grew under her dogwood trees. Each Spring, I chose a spray of the delicate flora to carry in my stubby fingers and proudly put in her favorite vase.

A robin fledgling startles me as he lands on the birdbath. He sits, perched and ready for his plunge. Splashing and flapping his wings, he retreats to the water’s edge. I smile. I guess he wasn’t prepared for a cold shower.

As the sun rises and turns the sky to a golden glow, I return to the house to top off my brew. I pause in the dawn's early light and am thankful.

dainty petals
dangle in morning mist
suspended
in a time warp
of treasured memories

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Contemporary Tanka Prose contest entry