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
Nice length for a haibun. It holds the interest right through and invites you to reread it. I like it very much.
That's great right there.
One of the most complete poems I have ever read. It sizes up life and beyond astutely
Very nice.
Not sure I totally understand, but my heart does. Must be the red high tops. lovely work.
This has added a couple of years to my bones. Very lovely. Thank you.
seeing my hometown
framed by an airplane window…
sweating the small stuff
Thank you for your kind responses to my first published haibun, "High Iron." Regards, Angele Ellis
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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.
I like this one a lot.