Tag Archives: haibun

Cold Florida Moon

New Year’s Day, 2018 Venice Beach . It’s not the state we’re used to, this time around – of the union, or of being. The breeze is less than balmy, the palms nearly as frozen as our own. We’ve come … Continue reading

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There’s things I remember and things I forget I miss you, I guess that I should Three thousand five hundred miles away But what would you change if you could? …I need a phone call I need a raincoat – … Continue reading

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.. We say it quietly – a low, large hum. We breathe it in, looking around this overcrowded table. Prime rib and turkey and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and green beans and orange fluff. We laugh ourselves loose and … Continue reading

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Us, to the 10th power

A decade of days falls soft behind us, a mere blink of an eye and the building of a quiet life. The coast calls, and we fling babies to Grammy’s house and responsibilities to the wind, and follow that west-blown … Continue reading

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Breathing Blue & Palming Psalms

Give her a Lake, some aching shade of blue. A place to glue her eyes to the horizon, and wait for the sun to meet her equilibrium gaze. Bare feet. A quiet sheet of white, waiting for song. A long … Continue reading

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Haibun for One Who Writes Beauty

.. She craves white worlds. Plows kireji and kigo through papered snow, rains cherry blossoms down on to our parchment feet with a delicate hand. Listens to trees. Asks the breeze to remind her she is a samurai warrior of … Continue reading

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Holding Demons at Bay with Her Left Hand

detail from Shelle Kennedy’s “Madonna of the Flowers” find Shelle on her blog, Etsy shop, and Facebook Her right one’s busy, juggling responsibility and freedom; song and silence, keyboard and keys. Counting toes and syllables. Keeping one eye closed so … Continue reading


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The Silent Sigh of Hospital Sheets

.. They say she is dying. We listen with wrenched hands, tightening lips. The clock on the wall ticks, clicks its way into our worn brains, as if we don’t already feel its dwindling voice in our own heartbeats. Staccato … Continue reading

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Backyard TripTik

.. I grab my coffee, because essentially I am a steam engine at heart. My notebook, because ink is fuel. I am not going far, but these things are important for the journey. The ruffling of the ash and the … Continue reading

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“At every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss.” ― Paulo Coelho   .. I’ve never lost a glass slipper, but I have learned to let my hair down. … Continue reading

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