Tag: Haibun
-
A Haibun for dVerse Poets
A Haibun Poem for dVerse Poets Dust swirled behind the car and I remember thinking, I want a long white lace veil when I get married. I was 14. The road ahead was silent and empty, the woods thickly green rising up from earth’s heart, stumps like elbows and trees tall as time waiting by…
-
A Moment for a Haibun
I’m watching a grey squirrel who gives me an occasional cautious glance, and it’s shredding the birds table into bits, tossing pieces of wire and mesh around, and then you say, The air smells so fresh this morning, like chlorophyll — and the squirrel is hurling abuse and obscenities at the bird feeder because it’s…
-
dVerse Rooms
Grandpa was autumn. That’s how I saw him. In his brown trousers and rusty-red shirt and a folded paper hat on his head that looked like an origami boat, and he’d stand there in his basement workshop sawing up some piece of driftwood, sawdust flying about like a blizzard. A lightbulb hung from a cord…
-
dVerse Haibun Monday “Grey”
Those Fictional Greys Funny thing about long-term memory; it’s like it just happened yesterday. Like when I was remembering my grandmother who departed us nearly 30-years ago. I can see her now. Grandma sitting in a straight-back wooden spindle chair. She sits where the sun breaks through the window but she still feels icy. And…
-
Changes for dVerse
We walk along the ageing edge of things, reading tombstones like book titles. Everyone has a story, you say, and I wonder what percentage of my story is a prank. It’s all too depressing here, you say, but I find Highgate strangely calming, as if existing amongst these fates is an affirmation. And the wind…
-
dVerse Haibun Monday
Courage Winter is courage. It’s a well-disciplined march stopping for nothing. And it’s those middling, dead-centre winter months that possess all our complaints, and illnesses. And tragedy. Winter stalks the frail, takes them into its crushing tranquility, leaving us in deepest grief and melancholy during the whole winter journey. We are for loss of green…
-
dVerse Haibun Monday
The bird bath is frozen, and the house stares out on a silvery fog. Crows on the hop. On the lawn. Pepper on white. Onyx on the hop. They argue. They joke. It’s a caw a caw — it’s a stabbing incantation as their beaks seek small creatures hidden in the soil, hidden like deep…
-
dVerse Haibun #29
That Dog And your little dog, too. Toto. Totally Toto. Barking at wind and witches and straw and wizards. I’m not an enthusiast of cute and fluff noise. Terriers — too small to know their place. No perspective. A constant scurry, and never waiting for their own tail. My dog never barked at wind. Nor…
-
dVerse Haibun #27 and Twiglet #2
Two version of the same piece. The first is written as a haibun for dVerse Poets using the word “night”. The second version is the original that uses linebreaks, created as a free-write exercise for prompt #2 at The Twiglets. I. Run Away I’ve drawn over my childhood where there’s no children’s hour, no storybook…
-
dVerse Haibun #26
I’m unable to sleep. Again. Winter makes me a bit flighty. Makes me fidgety as shivers. But when the sun does appear, it’s all the more welcome. This morning I watched the sun rise and focus and burn away fog so thick that the end of the street had disappeared into its own depth, and…
