Tag: haibun
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Dad Difficulties
Dad was too much like Adelia for Mira. It was inevitable that those two lions would eventually clash. He was a man that always thought he was right. Lived in terror at the thought he was wrong, actually. Just like my sister-in-law, with whom Mira once lived as a dependent, once upon a time. Being…
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Simple Intimacies
Even 23+ years later, the joy of waking up in each other’s arms, my love. Whatever heights and depths we experience this side of the veil, may we have that. May we have that for as long as we can. even in this summer-like heat Autumn wind
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Dinner Party Aftermath
The quiet of backfiring mufflers, droning Interstate traffic, and resurgent crickets. All after the company leaves. A still night, with light pollution blotting out the stars. All after a long week’s work. Autumn chill after a return of summer heat echoes of pitter-patter from our great niecces
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Unexpected Inconveniences
The email from my co-teacher came at 1:30. A writing assignment for our 11th grade ELA class, with a request for scaffolded organizers. An email I didn’t read until just before my 1:57 class. what are the odds? another last minute request It’s 2:40, and instead of going home, I’m crafting organizers. Simple enough to…
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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…
Frank J. Tassone 