pelt in the dark stream,
its chiming distance muting
nadirs and zeniths,
I choose the bright apices
by gravities’ granite lip.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
Category: Tanka
The Dyslexic Poet
Dyslexic, yet I
write too much, the same frayed ends,
or should that be ‘to much’ –
you may read it either way;
we write to much the same ends,…
Forgotten Eve
Hear this modern Eve,
where the apple slices sharp
the wax drowns new wicks
swallowing the knife of words
watch a candle cut to flame,
choaked, a blessing came
with an absence of honey;
uttered without tune
where weary throats broke quavers
on past moons, hope a sliver.
Antonia Sara Zenkevitch
A Billion Raindrops
A billion raindrops
fall like all the promises
you forgot you made,
cold, tired, soaked to my bones
I seek trumpets in the storm.
