Tag: photo
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Such Summer Fun
An old video, copied from an old film, shows me attempting to roller skate with the Sterino kids. I remember laughter, and perhaps some encouraging words from Debbie. She, with her long, thick brown hair and contagious smile, had taken me on as another kid brother. And I remember the feel of the driveway on…
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A Misplaced Kindness?
28 September, 1918. A crossroads in the French village of Marcoing. Private Henry Tandey, of the 5th Duke of Wellington’s Regiment’s 5th Battalion, encounters a wounded, fatigued German soldier. The enemy does not even raise his rifle, although Private Tandey has the man in his sights. Tandey is no coward. Earlier the same day, he…
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This March Madness: a #writephoto #haibun
Sunlight from an unclouded sky radiates the snow-covered lawns of the neighborhood. This winter that gently bleated in its youth roars in its dotage. Nevertheless, the gates of seasonal change stand ajar, as the vernal equinox approaches. Soon the blossoms will unfold. The botanical gardens will yield their bloom. The morning air will echo with…
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“March Morning…” a #haiga (3/4/19)
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#SilentSunday (3/3/19)
A rest from #haiku See you tomorrow!
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Racehorse Dreams: my latest .@ImageCurve #haibun
“It was one of his many ‘get rich quick’ schemes,” Mom says. She and Dad bought a racehorse with some thoroughbred blood in it. They hired a trainer and jockey, and rented stables. They planned to train the horse as a pacer for the trot car races: popular at Yonkers Raceway, Monticello and the like.…
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#NaHaiWriMo 2019 closure
Another February, another NaHaiWriMo! I succeeded in writing two haiku per day for the month. It was a lot of fun! Thank you, everyone, for reading and for your continued support. swan song so much haiku so little time
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Emergent Compassion: a #TankaProse #TBT (on a Wednesday) #haibun
memorial stone a genesis of ruin in every sip all their raised fists and voices all of my paralysis A night so long ago. Her absolute enabled-tongue lashing you to mindless rage. Her slumped on the stairs, you above her, fists clenched, driving down. I, a boy of twelve, headlocking you off her. You, a…
Frank J. Tassone 