Tag: photo
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O Holy Night: A #tankaprose (Redux)
those shepherds’ reality Cold, starry night pierced by novel light among the singing stars they find a manger-laden babe A veil of all-to-human darkness fallen upon the world. Client-kings cater to the lock-step of Legionnaires bearing the word of Caesar. How could such a new star shine for the newborn of a woman whose own husband denies paternity?…
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Relocating the Gingerbread Man (Redux): a #Christmas #haibun courtesy of .@ImageCurve
It is a delicate procedure. One so precarious that Frankie runs from the kitchen, saying, “I can’t bear to watch in case this goes south.” Mira emerges from the kitchen. The gingerbread house Frankie worked on rests on a glass cake stand. new centerpieceiTunes’ carols playing asa proud pastry chefadmires his masterpiecein our Christmas trees’…
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The Message of the Nativity: a #writephoto #TankaProse
passing light a virgin’s assent saves us all What better effort from the heart can we expect? The last light of the shortest day casts a pallid orange across an empty sky. Caesar’s decree ensures that a speck of a city like Bethlehem will quickly overflow. The carpenter that leads a donkey laden with his…
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A Little Light Defiance
I hear your laughter, you coming darkness. I hold my tongue at your mockery of our quavering, as daylight diminishes with each passing day. I bear your taunts about how hope dwindles with your growing deluge. Because the joke is on you. I light one candle, and you cringe. For all your black might, you…
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#SilentSunday (12/16/18)
A rest from #haiku See you tomorrow!
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Passing (Redux)
My father died of Pancreatic cancer on December 14, 2011. I first published this haibun in Image Curve, on December 18, 2014. The mid-afternoon sun rests along the top of the Ramapo Mountains. The patio shines in a brilliance unobstructed by leafless maple trees. Mira and I sit at the table, taking a rest from…
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#SilentSunday (12/9/18)
A rest from #haiku See you tomorrow!
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The Folly of Dashed Expectations: a #writephoto #haibun (12/5/18)
The forecast called for a few flurries. A wide ribbon of immaculate snow should not cover the road. The sight of naked branches behind the wire fence is odd enough. A field ripe for harvesting usually greets me instead. Sudden snowfall is an unwelcome suprise. But then again, what should I expect? Winter…
