In Sky (Tanka Prose)

Pregnant on a hilltop, the wind blows and blows — blows right through this flimsy frame and the hardening bones of my unborn child.

Clear as sky, I stand, eyes closed — two hearts beating.

on this bare hill
there is nothing else
but sky
and my bare feet
on an earthen path

.

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2 thoughts on “In Sky (Tanka Prose)

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