4 Tanka

here opens my hearts breast
a field of scarlet poppies
where sacrament sleep
awake deep furrows of love...
spring seeds awake the tulips blood.

each; days a dungeon
believe it I've heard the rusty-keys rattle
tigerish in the rock
thoughts roar-up-on a mountain!
dreaming of murder...

soon the red dusk settles
on a frozen white canvas
Tears meet at midnight...
with orange peelings by her feet
the dawn drip-drops-in, the size of pearls

happy the old hour between
night and death, and the pause to take
another heavy breath;
the salutatory sunlight spoke!
come hitherto' and see my sunsets...