Haiga

Contemporary Haibun and Haiga, #14
Spring 2013

Haibun

                                            THE BREAKUP

So, now he was alone with his pain.  A red hot poker in his belly.  Searing coals ready to sizzle his insides.  The episodes were coming at shorter intervals, each more intense. 

“It’s  been three weeks since I’ve seen you, and you still don’t look well,” Libby had said, as she began to straighten up the mess in his apartment, a mixed look of concern and disgust on her face. “When are you going to see a doctor?“

“I did, I told you.  Ulcers.  Gotta watch the chili peppers.”

“I mean a specialist.  I think that diagnosis is wrong.”

“And what do you know, Dr. Libby Sullivan?  Miss couldn’t get through any high school science class without my help?  Stop butting in where it’s none of your business.”

His words and tone had the desired effect.  Libby left again.  Maybe she would stay away for good, this time.  He was as rotten as his insides.

There’s nothing in it for her.  A lot of self-sacrifice and TLC around the clock.  Three months?  Six months?  Too long to watch her eyes cloud up with his pain.  Too long to see her lips quiver as she fed him or wiped the sweat from his face.  Too long to watch her watch him.  Too long to see her love turn to pity.  Better that she hate him.  It was the least he could do to show his love.

                                                          end of summer

                                                      a cold draft
                                                      in all the rooms

Contemporary Haibun On-line, Dec. 2007

 

Haiga

Simply Haiku, January 2012

Haibun

                                             DUSK 

It is quiet now.  No cars on the road.  No neighbors about.  The light is going.  Overhead, a solid cloud cover.  A breeze stirs the pines creating a rushing sound as of a stream pulsing over rocks. After a few seconds it reaches the copper chimes on the porch, sounding its bell tones, low and fleeting.

                                      summer rain–

                                      the gentle way

       -                              you touch my hand 

One Hundred Gourds, 9/2012

Haiga

Simply Haiku
Summer 2012

Haiku

                                   long ago beach days
                                   coming back with the tide–
                                   slow walk with his cane

                                   late afternoon
                                   the beach odors change
                                   from fries to kelp

                                   high tide
                                   filling rock basins
                                   eroding them

An Unknown Road 2008
World Haiku Review, 2002
World Haiku Review, 2003
Haiku Harvest 2006