Haibun Thinking: Week 14 – April 22nd 2014
and Earth day..
Frank and Wanda stand on the icy Hawaiian beach and watch as the massive waves come thundering in. “Look to the left” she yells at Frank “I see an iceberg!”
Strange to think that only two generations ago, people actually sun bathed and surfed on these shores. That was, of course, before pollution blotted out most of the sun and nuclear accidents changed the earth’s rotation.
treating our planet
with shocking indifference
when will it stop
Hiroshi’s five sons are seated around their late father’s kitchen table with their laptop computers open. They argue among themselves over top of their screens.
Father was a wealthy man but also extremely cautious by nature. All of his accounts have been protected by intricate passwords and the sons are unable to access anything. Their only clue is the cryptic note left by their Father.
you will find what you seek
beneath the strongest
of the eight immortals
In the living room the twelve-year-old grandson sits looking down on his Grandfathers miniature zen garden. “Dad” he calls out “I know where it is..”
“Don’t bother us Son, can’t you see we are busy?”
The boy reaches out and lifts the largest stone, peers at the paper, then replaces it as he found it. “To heck with them” he grumbles.
eight immortals (Horai )
Written for: Friday Fictioneers
Photo Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy
“You can’t find me!” Leah squeals with delight.” Should we do hot and cold?” she asks earnestly.
This has been our favorite game almost as long as she has been old enough to walk. Sometimes she puts a patch over one of my eyes and I am a pirate. Sometimes I wear masks, ( truth be told..I was a princess once ). Today I am a monster from the deep.
I hear her breathing in the far corner of the room. “Am I hot or cold?”
“cold” she giggles
I turn my blind eyes toward her ..
I heard Ma and Pa talkin about it again last night when they thought I was sleepin. They has promised me to Ralph Smithers down the road in exchange for a pig and two sheep. Better than my sister Sarah who got traded for a jersey cow two years ago. I seen Ma watchin me like a hawk lately, just waitin for me to start my “monthlies” so’s they kin git me wed.
Well I ain’t marryin no creepy old geezer, I got other plans.
This mornin I snuck out early and headed down the highway. It is gittin light and soon I will have to leave the road and wade down the river. Can’t have Pa’s hounds sniffin me out and trackin me down. Iffin I git caught I’m gonna take a whoopin.
Aint gonna happen.. I start walkin faster.
Haibun Thinking: Week 12 – April 8th 2014
You think you have life all figured out. The path you follow is comfortable, like your favorite pair of worn out jeans. But then..the bubble you were living in pops without warning.
You find yourself faced with the proverbial fork-in-the-road. With no possibility of going back, you are left with two choices. Continue to the left and your life will be somewhat the same. You will move forward as before, without effort, but somehow you feel an emptiness inside. It is as though you have lost something along the way.
To the right, the road is less traveled. Many obstacles will get in your way and the path is rough with things that can trip you. If you should choose to go this route your progress will be slow and sometimes difficult. What to do?
My decision was not made lightly. After much soul-searching I have decided to go right. It is possible that I may fall flat on my face but at the end of the day I hope to feel a sense of accomplishment, something that has been sorely lacking in my life.
donning new shoes
I leave my self doubt
at the fork in the road
Mrs L. passed away last weekend just a few days short of her 101st. birthday. In spite of her advanced age, her memory never failed her.
Her recollections of life in the early ninteen-hundreds , the old photographs she shared with me , the living history from someone who lived it..these things can never be replaced.
As I cleaned her house for the last time today, I took at my place on the sofa next to the chair where she would sit while we had our “visits” and said farewell.
She once told me that she worried God had forgotten her, she has now found her peace.
each patch of grass
illumined by the moon
(c) Soen Nakagawa (1907-1984)
Such a beautiful haiku, a snapshot of nature. Here is my humble attempt:
beneath a pale moon
a winter wolf kept company
by only his shadow
Writen for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS!
Photo: copyright-Kent Bonham
The stage remains lit by a single spotlight, just enough to cast shadows as the janitor pushes his mop pail from stage left. The actors have finished their rehearsal and gone home, probably with their ears still ringing from the director’s foul language.There is less than a week before opening night and many are still stumbling over their lines. Hamlet continuously looking for the director’s help.
The janitor slowly begins mopping, then stops directly inside the circle of light. Facing the seats he begins “to be or not to be..” He does the entire soliloquy without hesitation, flawlessly. Bowing to his imaginary audience, he carries on with his cleaning.