Planted last winter,
I watched for your blush of life.
You remained dormant,
or dead – Now I’m left to choose:
wait and hope, or dig you out.
dVerse Meet the Bar challenge: 5-line Japanese Poetic Forms. My first attempt at a tanka.
What Rhymes with Stanza?
Words at rest, words at play
What Rhymes with Stanza? 
Give it every benefit of the doubt. I’ve been surprised more than once. The rhubarb I wrote about today is one example.
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It’s a native oak tree I purchased from Friends of Trees. They are supposed to come back around soon to see if we are being good “tree parents.” I’ll wait to see what they say. And hope for the best.
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It may still bud.
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I hope so; I’ll give it a bit more time.
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I love the indeterminacy of this! Great!
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Thank you!
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A lovely, inaugural tanka! I hope your oak makes it!
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Thank you. I think I’ve quite a ways to go to understand the different forms. Thanks for the inspiration to begin!
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Awesome closing. Definitely dig.
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Hahaha! You’re the only one voting for dig.
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Wait and hope. Don’t give up too soon!
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I’ve had luck with waiting in the past, so I’ll give this one a chance, too.
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I say give it time, I have a rose bush that only blooms every other year. If I had given up I wouldn’t have the lovely blooms a year later.
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It’s safe for now 😉
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Very nice! Everything in its time and season… maybe if the rain stops you will see first blush!
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I tend toward patience when it comes to plants. Hopefully it will pay off.
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you can always scratch the stem with your finger nail and if it is green underneath it is still alive and kickin’ !!
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Ah… I’ll give that a try. Thanks!
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great tanka that has aroused some strong advice … good luck!
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It really has! Thank you.
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The gardener in me says wait – but I’m not sure this is about a plant – this could be a dream, a relationship, a plan – I love that slight questionmark.
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Good catch! 😉 Thank you.
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This is so familiar and of the moment, Cheryl! I think I’d choose wait and hope.
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For now, that’s the plan. It’s not like I’ve got anything to rush into.
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Apologies, Maggie! I thought I’d clicked on Cheryl’s link, and then I realised too late that it was yours
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Not a problem. I’ve been called worse. 😉
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I once watered a stick for a full year until it sprouted leaves again…don’t gve up! (K)
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It’s safe for now.
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The waiting game is quite long where I live in Central Oregon, but eventually shoots arrive. Very nice.
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Yes, you have a fairly short growing season, if I recall, I’m still hoping it revives.
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“To dig or not to dig”…that is the question!
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Haha! The consensus seems to be to wait.
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I like this one!
Oak is difficult to transplant. I hope it hangs on.
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I’m going to give it a chance. The squirrels keep planting acorns in my yard and trees sprout up, but this one is a native variety so I’m really hoping it survives.
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I hope so too. We’ve tried shuffling sprouting oak trees about the place to give them a better chance. They often fail to adapt to even being moved a few yards.
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I had a similar issue with a fig tree. Or a potential fig tree. No signs of life, no buds. so I dug it up!
Your poem made me chuckle, nicely done.
Pat
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Thank you. This one gets a temporary reprieve. We’ll see how it goes.
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I like that this expresses concern for plant-life, but I also see it as a metaphor for any cause that might seem lost but only needs closer attention.
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I’m glad you caught that. Thank you.
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