John Anderson Poet Tanka

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What the Storm Splayed and Spared

Dust taints scent of rain
the wind wrenches gate ajar
lightning splits the clouds—
grime streaks down marble headstones,
as silver names bleed deep red

bouquets torn and flung
petals smashed into the mud
plastic stems snapped clean
weeds kneel and crawl up to stones
claiming what storm has laid bare

the squalls scour angels
driving grit deep into wings
puddles drown vases
pebbles scatter like lost teeth
pathways get buried in hail

beneath all this rage
the dreamless ones stay silent
beyond the storm's grasp—
no pleas get through weighted soil
moored tight in unyielding peace

storms don't bow to the names in stone
don't hear the prayers carved to atone.
the dead can't rise, the dead can't plead—
the wind takes all, it's wild and unforgiving
the wind takes all, it's wild and unforgiving

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