The sky a painting,
Moon swallowed by inkstain clouds,
Stars distant, silent.
Icy fear crawls up my spine—
GO!
Tanka
Author's Note: It's kind of a degenerate tanka with the last line collapsed into a single syllable.
With eddies of salty air dancing upon the sandy shore as audience
And the piercing heat of an unfeeling sun staring down in silent judgement,
I,
mind in motionless meditation,
thoughts held taut with terrible intent,
fingers gently grasping a leathery hilt,
tendons held taut with terrible intent;
they,
eyes enshrouded in shadow,
thoughts held taut with terrible intent,
their sword-arm a savage snare,
tendons held taut with terrible intent;
we,
our eyes locked, our fates inescapable,
thoughts held taut with terrible intent,
anticipation beating in our chests,
tendons held taut with terrible intent;
suddenly,
our bodies explode with motion like waves crashing upon the shore,
a splash of violence soon lost to the tide, washed out to sea, forgotten.
Free Verse