Frank J. Tassone

Tag: #writephoto

  • Ultimum Solum: a #writephoto #haibun

    Breathe the salty air of the sea breeze. Gaze upon the last glow above the horizon. Listen to the lap of surf upon the shore. Be still. The twilight arrives by itself. Unity is always at hand. Experience it. declining light anticipating the next day’s delight for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Stillness #writephoto

  • The Journey: a #writephoto #haibun

    “Will I live to see my journey’s end?” –Metal Church, “Badlands” I have ascended the grassy knolls of gentle country hills. I have scambled up the rocks and slopes of jagged mountains. I have meandered wooded paths across roaring brooks and dried-out creekbeds. I have endured the blistering sun and the bone-chilling rain. I have…

  • A Personal History of Moving: a #writephoto #haibun

    Dad wants to cut the Tappan Zee bridge out of his commute. He finds the perfect ranch-style house for us in Rockland County–same side of the Hudson as his restaurant. I don’t want to leave all my friends behind. And while Dad packs up all of our belongings into boxes, Mom drinks. sunset the last…

  • An awaited Crossing: a #writephoto #haibun

    Breathe. Listen to the rush of white-foaming water. See the rippling currents as the river flows. Feel that stirring breeze. Breathe. Gather. Step to the span’s edge. Consider the consequences one more time. Breathe. Then step across. Embrace the other side. Listen to the rush of white-foaming water, now more distant, now behind. Walk on.…

  • A Corridor Evermore: a #writephoto #haibun (for #dVersePoets and #PoetsUnited, too)

    Door upon door upon door. An unceasing progression to everywhere, and nowhere. And yet each glimpse off the everlasting corridor reveals a moment… Flash! I am eight or nine. The maple and elm tower over the dirt trail that leads from the playground in Douglas Park. Dappled light though the canopy illuminates patches of the…

  • Path Appeal: a #writephoto #TankaProse

    Oh, the lure of snowcapped mountains. Only verdant meadows and sloping foothills to cross before the ascent. As though the journey itself were not home. But what would be the appeal of a journey without a destination? a step along the way moving deer all these paths lead home for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto: choices

  • An Oceanic Comtemplation: a #writephoto #haibun

    The tide rolls in. A crescendo of sound rises, as waves crest and crash against the fine sand of the beach in a roar. The last sunlight reflects on the water as the sun dips below the horizon. A sea breeze picks up, its whoosh a counterpoint to the crying gulls scouring above the shore.…

  • Aqua Exolvuntur: a #writephoto #haibun

    So close to the end. Only 10,000 sins left to overcome. Only a legion of stumbling blocks to turn into stepping stones. Only a horde of obstructions to manuever around. Then the reunification for which I was born. Then the synthesis for which I began the arduous journey. Then the singularity through which I arise,…