Haibun

Afternoon Drive

Clouding over.  The sun disappears.  Cold.  Colder.  The first flakes.  Increasing rapidly.  On a secondary road, miles from a village, level ground gives way to a slow ascent.  The road narrowing as the snow becomes heavier. The light is dim. No cars in front or behind.  No room to turn around. Visions of getting stuck, freezing to death.  With the car in reverse we back down several miles to level ground and a wider road where we can turn the car.

smoky café 

with the chill gone

the shaking begins

World Haiku Review

Late winter haiku

dripping icicles

a red-headed flicker

beats a tattoo

ice melting

a new rhythm

in my movements

A Hundred Gourds

Unpublished

Tanka Sequence

Small Town 

walkers and joggers

and Saturday shoppers

the village alive

at the farmers' market

some bargaining, some laughter

from first day to last

Norman Rockwell pictures

of harmony and cheer;

is reality dressed up

to fool others and ourselves?

new shops open

and other shops close

grumblings are heard;

we should do this or that

or do nothing at all

meadows and fields

rolling hills, ponds and lakes

the blessings of nature

ours to enjoy and soften

that which pains

Greensilk Journal

Haibun

FADE TO BLACK

I rise early to spend time at the computer:  check e-mail and then check local weather, read news, dawdle, kill time, putting off the serious business of writing.  If I stall long enough my husband will be up, and I’ll leave the computer to make breakfast, begin the day’s chores. Cleaning, laundry, shopping. The writing will wait. Perhaps tonight after dinner. Of course, there’s tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow.

pink, blues, violets

the winter sunset

fades to black

KERNELS