Tag: haibun
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La Notte Scorsa
I dance with the blushing bride at the corner of the backyard. The Sturgeon Moon shines through the gap between old pines and gnarly maples. It’s our last night at our old house. The movers come tomorrow. savoring the luminescence our shadows It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and pubtender De Jacksons serves up Moon!…
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Armistice
Michael looked over the battlefield. A muddy plain littered with corpses. The Somme still glinted red in the morning sun. So many souls to accompany to their personal parousias. A figure in black approached. The archangel sighed. War had chosen to embody the Morrigan again. She stopped two paces ahead of him. Her ravens circled…
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Eleventh Day, Eleventh Month, Twenty-twenty-three
Today, 2023. The Cherry tree outside our sun room has golden leaves, at last. Fitting for it’s position, basking in the morning sun. Across the street, a well-manicured young elm trembles in a passing breeze. Scattered leaves flutter to the sidewalk. Saint Martin of Tours day, 2023. The Roman Patrician, a calvary officer that chose…
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To Experience the Dawn of Taoing
To emerge from the mists of time in ancient China. To stand by the Western gates, as the guard states down Laoxi himself. To watch the old master follow him into the gatehouse. To place my hands over a brazier warming the drafty abode, as the former Imperial Librarian seats himself at a desk. To…
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A Winter’s Dance
I fall to one knee. The omnipresent snow saturates my jeans in moments. It keeps falling. I pant. The bitter cold seeps in anyway. Snow dragon smiles. Scarlet-haired, a red line across his pale face, he savors a quick victory. His front stance lightens. Bravado. A mistake. “Why not embrace the inevitable, Golden Dragon?” He…
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Muted Mourning
We never met, but spoke only a few times on the phone. Three gifts you sent me: a headshot photo of you from your theater days, a volume of Billy Collins poetry, another I’ve forgotten. How I discovered you passed an inadvertant admission via email my throat clenching on what might-have-been Oh, but do I…
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A Heartbreaking Homecoming
“I shall take rememberings by dismemberings” the Commandante kindly said “and keep them for you” as he dragged my loves through white snow…” Anderson, H. (2010). “Maybe You Can Come Home“. In The plenitude of emptiness (pp. 56). haibun, Darlington Richards. The moon pierces through the clouds, bathing the snow in a pale luminescence. I…
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Luciferian Conceit
We were princes before the fall. The heights of glory were ours to behold. The splendor of the real, vibrant in a sublime light so radiant it cannot be seen with ordinary eyes. All before the fall… time to tempt humanity toward its own We’re taking the fall over at dVerse for this week’s Quadrille…
Frank J. Tassone 