The Tanka Process

spring rain
I start a warm fire
for my mother
who sits in darkness
shivering for my father


rainy spring day
what else but this fire
to warm
my poor mother alone
and shivering for my father


rainy spring day
what else but this fire
to warm
my poor mother
alone and chilled without my father


rainy spring day
what else but this fire
to warm
my mother alone
and chilled without my father

1. First, I begin with the subject, this vivid moment in my day: it is a rainy Monday and I am caught between taking care of both my parents, one in a hospital 30 miles away, 86 years old, with a fractured neck and fractured hip; the other housebound, 82 years old, alone all day and missing my father. I do various tasks for my mother before I'm off to visit my father, but lighting a wood fire in the fireplace seems to have the greatest significance, like I am bringing light and warmth to her dark and lonely day.

2. A few things about my first draft don't quite work for me, mostly its stark wording, so I change the format to read as a question. This works to show my personal role in trying to change my mother's mood. I have emptied her trash, brought her water and washed a few dishes, but none of those things really transform this gloomy, lonely morning for her the way the fire does.

3. The third draft only makes a slight change. I have not been happy with the word "shivering" since I began. I replace it with "chilled" because it conveys more emotion and mood--of the day, the situation, my mother's physical state and my emotional state. For me, it becomes the key word in the poem, the word that binds and connects to all other elements. When a word like this comes into play in any tanka, it strengthens the poem and brings it from good to better. I also change "for" to "without" to indicate the absence of my father for both of us. The only decision I struggle with is whether or not the word "alone" should drop down to the last line.

4. In the next draft, I streamline. I don't need to label my mother "poor"-that just strikes me as pathetic, and the poem speaks for itself, no need to conjure up sympathy. I also decide "alone" is best to use on the same line as "my mother" to describe her state. Quite clearly she is not "alone" if I am there, yet this is her mood. I also like putting "chilled without my father" on a separate line to indicate more than just my mother is "chilled" without him--it sets the mood of the entire poem.

My tanka don't always come to life in just four drafts; sometimes there are six or even more. This tanka seemed fairly easy to me, maybe because it was written so close to the actual moment, and seemed already to have a life of its own. Sometimes it happens this way.