Two Tiny Haibun

 

the substance of forgotten things

i glance at the light shade. it has tassels on it that remind me of my grandmother.

your fingers can not touch me and yet i move

aurora borealis spillway

the rain has created a channel in my backyard. a small path of fog hovers over the water.

not yet autumn and the northern lights have hidden the stars

 

Published on a Poet’s Blog!

defining the sound of normal

what in the hell is a matter with me. i should be working around the house. i have tons to do but i am in the garage smoking a cigar and looking out at the clouds. i am sitting on the rear fender of my vintage 1973 volkswagen super beetle. it is rusted a bit but runs like new with a 2002 brazilian short block i got my hands on. in the sky today there are two levels of clouds. the higher ones are just barely moving and the lower level is going along at fifteen to twenty miles an hours. i can tell that it is going to rain and the wind past the garage has now picked up to match the lower level clouds. as i am about to close the garage door i turn and have an epiphany and it wears a certain smile.

wind chimes
the awkward cadence
of the crippled child

 

Most likely will never be published!

Non-numerical One

The breeze suddenly stops. My pulse stops for a brief moment also, or so it seems. Nature and human nature are one. The physical and the spiritual are one. And yet, and yet, we are drawn to making distinctions. It is the ‘stress’ of living.

summer meditation
the passing clouds too
have left the sky

 

Published in Cattails!