inside that sigh
migrate a thousand thousand
butterflies
*
what’s quiet
is still quiet behind
the barking dog
*
I fall asleep
aware of part of me watching
the one who sleeps
*
these arms
not reaching
but waving
*
poor woman
stopping long enough to smell
the juniper berries
only because
she has to pee
I can hear that sigh to start the sequence in the assonance, and then the quiet that follows is placed well. Then as reader I fold into the sleep, the awareness, the underwater motion in sleep. I have to say I love the tanka, though I’m not sure it plays the same game as the haiku.