Tag: Haibun
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30 August: dVerse Blue Moon
It’s Pulling On You A cold ember moon in my hand on this lyrical night, waxing and waning, worn, torn, and heavy twice in August. It lingers and hangs in its moonlight benediction. Only once in a blue moon, they say, and should I forget, that moon’s a kind of grief from the genius of…
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24 August: A Haibun
To Feed A man and a woman sit in chairs that through the passing of time have become his chair and her chair. The room is a warm beige colour, the name of which neither of them can recall, but it was a popular colour a few years ago. They both have the same colour…
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17 June: It’s Pronounced [bi″fid-o-bak-tēr´e-um]
![17 June: It’s Pronounced [bi″fid-o-bak-tēr´e-um]](https://misky.uk/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/goodbacteriablue.jpg?w=1024)
Day 17. Write a letter to future generations, urging them to cherish the natural world. To my darling grandchildren, I know your mum loves her sprays, the antibacterial and anti-fungal, floral scented and nose-pinching, but to kill bad bacteria is to kill them all. In your gut. On your skin. In the sink and down…
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6 June: for Poetic Bloomings
The last day of May, and the wind is a concussion. A howling violence. A motorcycle shriek. Leaves snap away from the day. But the wild garlic, its pearly blooms and barreling scent, it refuses intimidation. The rain comes in spines. In bricks. Sharp. A growl from a thousand miles out at sea. And a…
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23 May: dVerse Haibun Memories
Nap Time My head is sideways on the desk. My arm for a pillow. Eyes closed, says the teacher. I hear the school clock. Narrow white noise without a past tense. I watch the minute hand. It hangs still as the day. 1st grade. It’s nap time. The details are gone, but I remember without…
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17 May: A Haibun About Two Sisters
A Haibun About Two Sisters My mother, who in her mid-90s was nearly deaf but refused to get a hearing aid, said she had no problem hearing her sister, my aunt, and that they understood each other perfectly well, except that my aunt was stone deaf and therefore always wore a hearing aid, although it…
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8 May: A 9 Haibun
A Haibun: About the Number 9 I am a nine. That’s my number. You see if you take my birthdate in single digits and add them together in this order (m+m+d+d+y+y+y+y) it equals 27, and if you add 2+7 it equals 9. Any number times 9 always comes back to 9, like 9×6=54 and 5+4=9.…
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1 March: dVerse Mezzaluna
A Mezzaluna Haibun Mezzaluna up there, catching errant clouds on your hook. Up there, a chill on souls rising from where western stars move both heaven and earth. For a day, cut and sliced on a bias, night’s fabric and dress, then redressed each month. Full and blousy. Waning and waxing. Sadness and joy, pale…
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30 August: dVerse Shelter
Storms in a Teacup There was all that thunder, it left the air tight as a strange brew of poison. I pour ginger tea in a shallow cup, my head is not mine, it thumps, and I open the window. Lilac-coolness fills morning’s voice with construction down the street and the rhythm of a lawn…
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1 June: Sanctify
Sanctify I remember our last goodbye. A small slip of a tear between us. A kiss on the cheek. Yours felt surprisingly cold for a scorched autumn day, and I remember the blue-eyed sky, the old orchard, apples that fell like red hoofs thundering on the ground, and sunlight was my eternal joy. I have…
It's Still Life 