over the bay
a jet banks into the haze
(haibun for Bill Higginson)
bay window
no matter the season
drawn curtains
(haibun continues…)
my maternal grandfather passed away on june 22 1980 from black lung … (haibun continues)
moon splinters
on the river–the glint
of ice floes
(haibun excerpt)
“You know”, he confided, “I want to walk in front of a truck.” (haibun continues)
20,000 years on average from the Sun’s core to its surface… (haibun continues)
total eclipse–
the sun’s corona streaming
through us
[haibun excerpt]
the transparency
of light
floating on water
(haibun)
We walk under a scorching sun next to the river. … (haibun continues)
I lifted a single peanut up to the great animal. … (haibun continues)
Living in New Jersey, it was noon before I turned on the TV and heard that the planes had hit the towers. My first thought was of my ex-girlfriend, who was still a friend.
twilight
and it gives off the kind of hot chill one can get at times of transition… (part of a haibun)
We stand on the shore, a plastic bag of fins, masks and snorkels on the sand between us… (haibun continues)
“Nighthawks” — a new haibun by Roberta Beary
(a short haibun — click through to read it)