Margaret Tau
Here One Minute
It’s a Sunday night and our family rescues a flying squirrel caught in the fireplace chimney. He appears to have injured his leg, and we’re keeping him in a crate until he recovers. The four of us kids take turns feeding him while offering words of encouragement. Mom sees dad off to work the next morning, and we are off to school. Planning to spend much of the day outside, mom takes the crated squirrel outside with her while she works in the garden and hangs out laundry. Not knowing whether to place him in the sun or the shade—she chooses the sun. Anxious to get home to check on the progress of our new pet, we ask mom how the squirrel is progressing. Sadly, she informs us of his untimely passing from heatstroke.
our words
gone missing
we bow our heads
to the hymn
of a hermit thrush
About the Author
Margaret Tau’s poetry is primarily Japanese short-form such as haiku, tanka, and haibun. Her work has appeared in Frogpond, Under The Basho, and Blithe Spirit, among others. She also had the honor of serving as guest editor for Laurels, the online publication of the Tanka Society of America.