I’m a little behind on prompts, so this poem is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Wolf Moon, DVerse’s haibun Monday about beginnings, and JusJoJan day 7, “mix.”
At the beginning of this year, I think of the last — a mixture of joyous and difficult, heavy on the bitterness — and I get nervous. Emotions cannot void the truth: that I got through 2019 (someone even told me I was thriving), and the same can be for 2020. Memories of sadness stick a little better, but count the stars of happy moments — if you are able to number them.
After fullness starts anew —
Backdrop is the unlit room
On this chilly winter night:
Christmas tree is all aglow
With ornaments reflecting lights
And memories to give delight,
Despite some tastes of bittersweet.
See also branches, candy canes
Hanging from evergreen pines.
Regard the sweetness this season finds.
This is the first time I am posting for DVerse Prosery. We are to write a piece of flash-fiction that includes a line from a poem. This week’s poem is “Cow” by Jim Harrison, and the line is “A cow is screaming across the arroyo.” Please tell me what you think, since this might get very strange. Have fun!
“the centre cannot hold;…
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?”
— W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”
The earth and heavens have flipped: A fish is floating in the sky. A deluge drives down from the dark clouds, evaporating before it hits the cracked aridity of desert ground. A dehydrated cow fears being dried into jerky, and searching fearfully and futilely, is screaming across the arroyo, while it jumps over the crater-covered moon.
The sun and moon are in a desert dance, as earth and sky are battling. They must find a way to meet in the middle, yet it is impossible. Soon all fish will be floating, clouds will vanish, and all arroyos will be silent and dry.