High Iron

–for E.A.

At a hundred fifty feet, I’m comfortable as in a living room chair. Then it gets harder—the world shrinking to a map gaped at from an airplane window; the girder’s shadow a wing. The wind shrieks, as turbulent as a god, more playful than angry. Like my father’s ghost, stepping across the frame behind me in his red high-top Chuck Taylors, long gray hair streaming.

how narrow the beam
that holds our firmament
in place


11 Responses

  1. Paul Heinowski Says:

    Nice length for a haibun. It holds the interest right through and invites you to reread it. I like it very much.

  2. skyraftwanderer Says:

    That's great right there.

  3. Kushal Says:

    One of the most complete poems I have ever read. It sizes up life and beyond astutely

  4. Seren Fargo Says:

    Very nice.

  5. MarySquier Says:

    Not sure I totally understand, but my heart does. Must be the red high tops. lovely work.

  6. martin vest Says:

    This has added a couple of years to my bones. Very lovely. Thank you.

  7. Brandon Bordelon Says:

    seeing my hometown
    framed by an airplane window…
    sweating the small stuff

  8. Angele Ellis Says:

    Thank you for your kind responses to my first published haibun, "High Iron." Regards, Angele Ellis

  9. Rosie Says:

    I was wanting to know perhaps you can support with is complication – does anyone know a really easy ecommerce website builder, please …

  10. seaviewwarrenpoint Says:

    Interesting. I got a real sense of rising, slowly at first, then faster and faster until I was right out into the vastness of the universe.

  11. mary taitt Says:

    I like this one a lot.

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