Haibun
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Snapshot 07 December 02005
The pond is frozen over, fountain bubbling beneath a crown of thick ice. A friend brings food and a red poinsettia. She tells me bluebirds have returned to the river. This garden is a dance of sparrows, chickadees, finches, juncos ~ and each day, a visit from the hawk. I shop for long underwear and… Continue reading
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Snapshot 22 September 02004
Everyone is settling in for winter. Sparrows, chickadees and nuthatches fatten on autumn berries and my offerings. A neighbor who is moving to the edge of town (up the Rattlesnake) bear country, brings me squirrel and bird seed she cannot put out at her new home. This week the roof went up on another neighbors’… Continue reading
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Snapshot 04 August 02004
After a time, pain becomes defining, it becomes who you are: I am exhaustion. I am pain. One examines the philosophy, the sociology, the spiritual dimensions of pain. One attempts to escape it, tame it, defy it, deify it. Anything. Trying to retrieve dreams is like chasing bubbles; the moment you grasp them, they dissipate. … Continue reading
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Snapshot 21 July 02004
Such pain. I realize, again, that I am an odd person – my expectations of people so naive, my understanding so limited. How I am wounded again and again, yet seem to grow no calluses. Surely this is an error. Like N–, that blazing day, stepping into a parking lot from an air-conditioned building and… Continue reading
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Linked Haibun III
moonlight the garden rug blossoms Erin Noteboom Carpet roses climb the slope along the steps up to the river path. These are not the full, blowsy, cabbage roses that make one think of England, nor tight, symmetrical buds like those at a flower shop. These are flat-open roses, deep-pink with… Continue reading
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