Haiga

 Haigaonline                                                             

Tanka Prose

ALL GOD’S CREATURES 

  

After an absence of several weeks, he’s back. My squirrel. Upside-down, right-side up, every which way possible, he is having his breakfast at the bird feeder. Why he went away and why he returned is a mystery. Maybe this is a different squirrel, but he is just as determined to roust the birds and have his fill. He ignores my tapping on the window. I tap a little louder. He looks up, gives me the eye, and goes back to eating, flipping out more seeds than he eats. 

 

He is a rodent, and that alone makes him an unwelcome visitor. Maybe, I shouldn’t fuss over his presence.  Doesn’t he have to eat, like the birds? If I’m willing to give birds a free meal, why not a squirrel? He is messy, but he does make me smile at his antics. He is a first-class circus act.

 

It is early spring, and he is most likely short on food sources having used up his winter cache of nuts. I let him finish his feed, which he does after about fifteen minutes. I’ll go outside and refill the feeder, knowing he’ll be back later in the day and again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. .  .

 

though hidden from view

there is a destiny

given at birth

from flea to elephant

we share a raison d'être

------------------------------

Contemporary Haibun Online  

Tanka

 red barn and house

hay bales in the field

a ready stage;

I try to say with words

what others say with paint

 

MODERN ENGLISH TANKA

Haig

Haiga: Black & White

Tanka

 retirement

so many plans to make

I make only one,

to work very hard

at doing nothing

TSA

Tanka

 the sky above

between eastern mountains

and the western ocean

from brush fires and sunset

the same red

Red Ligthts

Haibun

Legacies   

 

Italian immigrants come with little in their pockets, yet riches in their hands. Stone masons who give life to rocks and brick. They build low walls to mark property lines, six-foot walls to surround an estate, columns to support an iron gate and walls to decorate their own modest homes. They build a bank, a school, a church. They build a village.

chiseled stones

an old man’s hands

folded in death

Contemporary Haibun Online

Tanka

 a carousel ride

moving forward, yet. . .

turning back

to when my father

lifted me up and down

Red Lights