TUESDAY POEM: "Four Tankas for Lake Monger" by Andrew M. Bell

FOUR TANKAS FOR LAKE MONGER

Man and boy laughing,

their kite dipping on the breeze.

In the silent house,

woman reads Sunday papers,

ear attuned to one car sound.

Midnight-blue swamphen,

first tracks in the dewy grass.

A mist hides the lake,

a spire rising from the mist,

bells tolling, no more silence.

Child cries, hurt in play,

mother comes to console her.

Old woman walks home,

tasting the salt of her tears.

No fire lit for her return.

Girl hangs upside down,

dark hair trailing in the sand.

Gulls dive on ducklings,

dropped from high on hard water,

their blood mingling with the lake.


The poet wishes to acknowledge the Naked Eye anthology (Western Australia) in whose pages this poem first appeared.