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tiny haibun

Love

May 23, 2022 jshb32haibun, tiny haibun1 Comment

The purr at the back door announces the delivery of another mouse.

cold sunrise
the saucer of milk
empty again

Bob Lucky

Love

Acceptance

April 25, 2022 jshb32haibun, tiny haibun3 Comments

All the roads mistaken brought me here.

late winter the promise of overcast skies

Bob Lucky

Acceptance

Last Supper

January 17, 2022 jshb32haibun, tiny haibunLeave a comment

“I’m tired,” my brother says. “The kind of tired you can’t sleep off.”

“Me too,” I say. “It’s been a long life. I could sleep for a week.”

new snow
cleansing the palette
between courses

Peter Newton

Last Supper

One Memory

January 10, 2022 jshb32haibun, tiny haibun1 Comment

I hear Iceland’s having a sale on icebergs. The eco-tourists arrive in droves carbon footprinting what’s left of the snow.

polar bears
in figurine size
blood moon

Peter Newton

One Memory

What of it?

October 25, 2021October 18, 2021 jshb32haibun, tiny haibunLeave a comment

The light in the room is dim and gray. It is an overspill from the drizzle outside the window. For a time I am in and of the wider world.

a moment
to be consumed by
no longer being

Hansha Teki

What of it?

#mom

September 6, 2021September 6, 2021 jshb32haibun, tiny haibun1 Comment

…and she again calls me by my sister’s name…

dementia
the wait for the
genetics to kick in

Mona Bedi

#mom

Infant Light

August 16, 2021 jshb32haibun, tiny haibun1 Comment

I am a child. My first identity. My long and lingering identity.

longest day
permission to stay up
to watch the sunset

Diana Webb

Infant Light

THE CHASE

April 5, 2021 jshb32haibun, tiny haibunLeave a comment

The carousel’s saddled horses go no slower than its zebras.

the
unicorn

in real
life gets

away

Joseph Salvatore Aversano

THE CHASE

HO HO HOW DID WE GET HERE

February 8, 2021February 8, 2021 jshb32haibun, tiny haibunLeave a comment

Those were the days, when zoom was the noise made by my sister’s Scalextric, while the rest of us huddled for warmth around a single blizzarding screen.

floods all around nostalgic for snow

Helen Buckingham

HO HO HOW DID WE GET HERE

For Loie Fuller

February 1, 2021 jshb32haibun, tiny haibunLeave a comment

A skirt of syllables. A wing of words. And how does it feel to be touched by stars ?

swirled in cloaks of mist
shaking out a web of droplets
Vaudeville dancer

Diana Webb

For Loie Fuller

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