/ Poetry

Late Autumn Tanka 2017

The Diablo Winds
Spin flurries of crisped leaves
in small tornadoes—
I catch myself comparing
it to wet-leaf piles at home.

The air feels empty,
dry and without character,
with zero pollen.
It's like the whole city just
embodies my hotel room.

Outside my hotel,
Plaza de César Chávez
is Christmas-ified.
Near it someone practices
what he says is "Chi Ball Fu."


Written on a trip to San Jose.

Nick Giampietro

Nick Giampietro

Nick graduated from Portland State University with a degree in Japanese Literature and a minor in English, and works as a Software Engineer in Portland. He lives with his wife and dog-of-a-cat.

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