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Haibun

Filling the Silence  

 

Music plays on the stereo, background music to inspire. I sit at my computer, a blank screen waiting to be filled with a poem, images, lyrical words, or a story with characters solving problems, with emotion, tension, a satisfying ending. Instead, I sit with hands poised on the keys, not moving, rendered immobile by the music of Ernesto Lecuona.

 

The music stills my imagination. Having played this many times before, I anticipate the next refrain and the next.  I close my eyes and sway with the rhythm. This is music for listening, for absorbing, for filling empty spaces and forgetting the past and the present. This is the body and soul of a man, a culture, a life. This is music to feel.

 

letting go

of tugging emotions

so as to hold on

            there is a time when pause

            is the salvation 

 

 Cattails

Tanka

 trees and more trees

brush against my window

feeling like a bird

seeing what it sees

when out on a limb

Red Lights

Haibun

FEEDING THE MULTITUDES  

 

I feed the residents on my street. Also, the one-time visitor traveling north or south in need of a snack. It was an impulse, born during the height of the pandemic, my need for company, even if at a safe distance separated by a window.  At first, the food stations were untouched. Weeks went by with only one or two inquisitive visitors partaking of the food. Gradually, the news spread and more arrived. The brave and the timid, the bullies who muscled their way to the food and those who waited patiently for an opening. I’ve learned their names and their habits, those who like the fat-laced food and those who prefer the lean and dry.  

 

the day begins

in all weather

with birds

a mutual dependance

they for me and I for them

 

Ribbons spring 2024 

Tanka

                                                              red day lilies

plucking spent blossoms

fingers smeared;

sometimes a good intent

can leave a stain

Haiku sequence

 

                                                                    SAN FERNANDO MISSION

 

                                                            a dusty trail

                                                            of  eucalyptus -

                                                            bells in the distance

 

                                                            a hot wind

                                                            through gray leaves-

                                                            sunlight blinking

 

                                                            doves cry

                                                            behind the white-washed church,

                                                            "You're a fool."

 

                                                            in the dark doorway,

                                                            eyes shut at the white sand-

                                                            a stabbing light

 

                                                            a power saw,

                                                            breaking the three o'clock silence-

                                                            the day moves on

Modern Haiku

Haiku

 cardinal spotting

a formless day begins

to take shape

Chrysanthemum

Haiku

 renewal

my subscription

to spring

Frogpond