Haibun

                                                                             

                                  A TRAGIC LOVE AFFAIR

 

He is born after his father dies and before there was a marriage. The boy’s grandfather refuses to acknowledge him publically, but agrees to provide for his education.  In exchange, his mother is to remain silent regarding the boy’s paternity. The no name boy is given a name by his mother’s brother, a name which means fighter, for that is what he will have to be.

He studies music and teaches children what he knows, organizes a small band and plays at local village concerts, parades, family celebrations and church festivals. He writes music for the church, marries and has 10 children. The child–the man–neither rich nor poor survives and remains a fighter.

                                    skinned knees and elbows

                                    the boy dives into the sea

                                    and comes up laughing

Contemporary Haibun on-line
April 2013

Haiga

Haigaonline  Spring 2014
part of a featured exhibit,
"Fantasy Garden."

Haiku

                                                   summer storm
                                                   the knocking wind
                                                   finds a way inside

                                                   the heat wave broken
                                                   morning coffee sweetened
                                                   with a cool breeze

                                                   city park
                                                   pausing for the silence
                                                   of grass

Bottle rockets, Aug, 2010
Country & Abroad, Sept. 2007
Daily Haiku, Oct.25,2009

Haibun

 

                                                A SUMMER EVENING

I am eight years old and walk from the trolley stop to the amusement park. My aunt and older sister are with me.  From two blocks away, odors of cotton candy, hot dogs, fried fish.  The wind from the ocean sweeps these odors in and out, along with the noise.

                                                 beyond the park lights–

                                                 the growing darkness
                                                 of the sea

The fat lady with her maniacal laugh stands at the entrance to the fun house.  Too scared to go in; too scared to wait outside alone.

                                                 sneaking a peek

                                                 in the darkened tunnel–
                                                 eyes half shut

 Any ride we want, my aunt says. The giant Ferris wheel, caterpillar, bumper cars. Rides my father would not allow.

                                                 screams and laughter
                                                 on the roller coaster–
                                                 which is mine?

 I try games of chance and skill.  The penny toss, spin the wheel, pop the balloons. Have neither skill nor luck and leave with no prize and a long face.  "Cheer up," my aunt says.  "Time for one more ride."

The merry-go-round. The best for last. I choose a big black and white horse.  An outside horse, one that moves up and down.  No stationary animal for me.  Gaining speed. The calliope pumping a tune, quick and gay. I reach for the brass ring.  Arms way too short.  Next year, I think.

                                                   head held back

                                                   whirling into the wind
                                                   a taste of sea salt
                                    
  Frogpond winte 2006(revised from published version)