Lungs continue to inflate. Outside, white clouds are Rorschach blots in a sea of sky. The neighbors’ cypress tree is leaning as the wind breathes. Lungs hold their precious breath as birds chip. Lungs let go: Exhale.
notice past preconceptions
a breeze — a shiver
This picture was taken when 11 months ago was “now.”
A warm afternoon at the end of March passes both languidly and much too quickly. The sky is blue, with no clouds blowing in the slight breeze. A monarch butterfly, black-and-orange wings majestic and beautiful flies — almost floats — nearly close enough to kiss the nose of an observer. The bird-feeders, filled for the first time in a long while, attract many other winged creatures, feathered things opening their hungry beaks.
And it is around now, when the cherry blossoms bloom at their peak.
Nature takes her time —
From the outside see Earth spin
Making us dizzy
The word for today’s FOWC: Moratorium, brought back memories. When I was in fifth grade, I took part in a spelling bee for my school district, and I won fourth place. The word that I misspelled was “moratorium,” which was an unfamiliar word to me and which I spelled with an I rather than an a. I guess you could say that, after I misspelled that word, there was a moratorium on spelling bee competitions for me. 🙂 At least until the next year, which I won.
It’s the second-to-last day of February, so what I’m loving today is…have I said “writing poems” yet? I love writing poems and wrote 9 today (of dubious merit).
The ashes that are used to mark the foreheads of the faithful, as a sign of repentance, grief yet hope, are the ashes from the burnt palm branches from the previous year’s Palm Sunday. Since Palm Sunday was cancelled for the public last Lent, I wonder which branches were burned. They were burned along with the hope of certain earthly pleasures — a reminder that this was never meant to be anyone’s true home.
Symbol-filled ashes: Journey to destination Because life is Lent
A haibun for DVerse’s Poetics prompt about war poems. I really wasn’t sure about this category of poems, though I did like “The Charge of the Light Brigade” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. I also like Wilfred Owen, but as for writing my own….This is what I came up with.
A haibun for JusJoJan day 2, which is SoCS today. 🙂 The theme is “in the corner.” I’m not sure why I wrote this, as it surprised me a little bit, but that’s the fun of stream-of-consciousness writing: you must follow the stream!
This is a haibun for FFFC #98 and Frank J. Tassone’s haikai challenge about the New Year / Cold Moon. I tried to come up with a good title, but they were all either too silly or too sad. I don’t want to make the reader sad right from the get-go. 😉
She lies awake, waiting for the ball to drop in Times Square, for the new year to be ushered in with customary fanfare — or what passes for fanfare (or custom) in these strange times. Times Square is empty, people in their homes, hoping for a fuller year ahead.
silent snowy night:
wolf under cold moon
For the current Weekly Scribblings, Magaly has asked us to write about anything October. I was partially inspired by the moon (shocking, right? 😉 ), so this haibun is also linked to Frank’s challenge. I love it when multiple prompts synchronize! (Thank you to Fandango for that one.)
If Halloween is on a dark and stormy night, remember: the Hunter’s moon is shining, reflecting sun’s light, even if nobody sees it.
Likewise, if current life does not seem fruitful, know: the Harvest moon will share its bounty, even this very night.
Luna’s face imbibes
faraway sunlight, carries
kindness to the stars