Tag: haibun
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Martial Aftermath
The brighter-than-daylight flash. The louder-than-thunder sound. The earth-leveling blastwave. The hotter-than-the-sun searing heat. Dust. Rubble. Shattered ruins of high rises. The horrifying shadowed outlines burned into rubble: the last remains of disintegrated human beings. Swirling dust bearing radioactive death. The ever-sickening, whose hair falls out in clumps. The slowly-dying, whose skin pales, then dries out…
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A Fall Foliage Deferred
“Come watch us turn!” They sing out in wind-carried whispers. Verdant leaves begin shedding their greenery as foliage season arrives. But the two-paragraph analyses my 11th graders wrote won’t grade themselves. The Eagle Scout workbook my candidate completed won’t review itself, either. “Come watch us turn!” The leaves in my former country have surely turned…
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A Collective Invitation
“We are the Borg. We will add your technological and cultural distinctiveness to our own. Resistance is futile” Star Trek: First Contact You have heard our call before. Some of your best became our own. Picard. Janeaway. Data. Many times you contested our invitation. System J-25, in your uncharted space. Wolf 359. Earth. We return…
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Dead Reckoning
Her hands, covered in dirt. Trembling. Hot streams of tears slide off her checks and onto the broken ground. Her chest heaves and heaves, but her sobs remain silent. A crow caws, takes flight from the topmost leafless branch of the dead Pinon. One glance over her shoulder. A gaunt, pale face bearing reddened, resigned…
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An Interstellar Jaunt?
I check the intrument panel again. Green across the board. The maiden voyage of the first trans-light, SpaceFold-drive starcraft, a lever-pull away. If it works, I’ll become the pioneer of intersteller flight. If it doesn’t… beckoning stars stretching out our hands to reach them We fold today at dVerse Poets Pub, for De Jackson’s Quadrille…
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Childhood Memories
Douglass Park, where we piled on a merry-go-round and spun round & round so fast that some of us fell off. And all of us saw the sky whirl round even standing still. The streets of Weber Park, my neighborhood in then North Tarrytown (now Sleepy Hollow), where we played tag, hung out in each…
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This Transition
Another dull roar from an overhead flight. Another drone from a passing car. An inky black of a night sky. An Autumn chill in the air. This is a near-mid-October night in New Rochelle. This is Westchester County urban living. & Five weeks after nineteen years in bucolic Montebello, this is now home. a little…
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Oh, Pasta Fazool!
The rich, tomatoey flavor. The hearty comfort of cannellini beans, diced pancetta, and grated parmesan cheese. The savory texture of ditalini mixed with those beans. The luscious “hmmmm” in every spoonful. Is there a more perfect cold-weather soup than Pasta Fazool? I experienced a culinary epiphany the first time I tasted the Neapolitan classic. It was…