3 tanka

Tanka

Moths play outdoors,
Street light and a summer night,
Not in the wardrobe
Where they are safe and cozy
Eating Uncle Fred’s old suit




Tanka

I sit in the yard
The soft night rests on my lap
String photos of you
On a necklace of memories
And I think of dawn and love



Tanka

The moon cannot fly
It asks of you to be its wings
Imagination;
Not so very difficult,
Recall the buzz of first love.