BIRCH TANKA

a whirlwind
strips bark from the birch
pale skin exposed
I hear my mother's voice
accusing me of lies

softly tan
the belly of a birch
laid bare
all my past transgressions
beneath his scathing gaze

white birch bark
curls falling on calm water
in summer sun
the curve of a gull's flight
against a cobalt sky

                       Kirsty Karkow
                        --first published Lynx 2003