The Plenitude of Emptiness

Haibun - The Moon Jar

2010-09-12T14:08:00.001-04:00

The Moon Jar

Sitting on a shelf behind glass, the moon jar from
the Joseon Dynasty in Korea was created by join-
ing two bowl-shaped halves.

An irregular shape results from a slight sagging in
the Bunwon kilns while unintended peach flourishes
have slightly tinted the jar from the intense heat.

Thickly applied glaze imparts a faint blueness, a
delicate tone to the porcelain, conveying the cool
freshness of the moon.

astonished
in front of the moon jar
my face

Haibun - Close to a Distant Shore

2010-07-07T19:36:00.002-04:00

Close to a Distant Shore

Glazed on the drum-shaped vessel, a crane swoops
from the lotus pond with a fish in his bill.

As we finish the plum wine, we tap the bottle with
driftwood, sing mad, love songs to the moon.

The sun begins to shine through a grey fog on the
ocean - the hangover of poets through the ages.

five hundred A.D. -
the Korean potter smiles
at a passing cloud

Haibun - The Stone Well

2010-06-02T10:21:00.002-04:00

The Stone Well

I follow the moonlit path to the mossy stone well.
A tossed pebble echoes in circles.

Lowering the bucket into depths of darkness, I
hoist it dripping onto the ledge.

The moon floats on the surface as I scoop it with
a ladle on a rusty nail.

I return the bucket to the rope above the stone well.
The ladle lies empty in the grass.

lingering heat -
my thirst quenched
by a cool moon

Haibun - How Light Carves Shadows

2010-02-28T21:42:00.007-05:00

How Light Carves Shadows

By pale dawn, from the west, she appears -
a haloed silhouette. Then, golden sun reveals
each chiselled fold released from the stone.

Dusk bathes her in oblique light, in streaks
of rose, peach, violet, blue. As darkness falls,
she rises with the silver moon, a shadow...

the smoothness
of her naked curves -
light carves shadows

Haibun - Tsukubai

2010-01-03T12:20:00.006-05:00

Tsukubai

By dusk, the sodalite he bought as a
dusty slab of stone from the quarry at
dawn has been carved by his sculptor's
hand into a half-circle of royal blue sky
with streaks of cirrus.

Gently, he places it in the grass.
The garden hose gurgles.

dipping my finger
in the stone basin,
i trace the moon...

Haibun - Country Church with Rose Window

2009-12-04T22:19:00.008-05:00

Country Church with Rose Window

Breathless on the path, she holds onto
the gate around the church. The statue
of the Madonna beckons her. Aching,
she makes it from the back to a front
pew to rest awhile.

There, in the midst of pain, she feels the
glow of glass petals - their hues fall gently
through the window of Our Lady of the
Rosary. Released, her last breath rises at
one with the roses.

climbing the trellis
the sweetness of attar
reaches the sky

Haibun - Wave

2009-11-13T14:28:00.005-05:00

Wave

"I want to be a wave" I had said, pierced
by the pain of adult laughter.

How the ache of ridicule remains.
I sit on the jetty as naked as the hurt child
I had been.

Hot, salty tears stream on my face, cooled
by the spray off the Atlantic.

turning
over and over -
I wave

Haibun - Zen in Bloom

2009-10-03T17:28:00.002-04:00

Zen in Bloom

stone waterfall -
a rock mountain rises
from a sea of sand

Beyond the window, a monk rakes.

Haibun - Moon-Viewing Terrace

2009-09-12T16:40:00.006-04:00

Moon-Viewing Terrace

A young girl, I peer through the lattice
window onto the moon-viewing terrace.

Streams flow over the stillness of rocks.

With no moon, I hear a hushed cry, then,
gentle murmurs surrounded by silence.

light breeze -
a peony drifts
through darkness

Haibun - Childhood's Green World

2009-09-01T16:26:00.006-04:00

Childhood's Green World

Barefoot, I cartwheel through clover as
sunlight filters through ferns casting lacy
shadows. At the pond's edge, I gather froth
with both hands. How I love the bubbles, the
way they reflect the leafy trees, cool in the
summer heat.

green frogs -
the mossy stones
"ribbit"

Haibun - Held In The Stone

2009-07-02T16:36:00.004-04:00

Held In The Stone

I stroll across the park as the sun dips
into the pond, spreading a layer of gold
leaf.

Held in the stone of a granite bench, the
warmth of the sun remains - final traces
of day.

night coolness-
the rustle of cobalt
in a leafy sky

Haibun - Jazz

2009-05-10T17:58:00.004-04:00

Jazz

He kisses me out of the blue
moonlight into the smoky dark
club until after awhile I feel the
dance of us making music...

sax player
before the tonic accent
a swig of gin

Haibun - Another Pier

2009-04-13T21:58:00.002-04:00

Another Pier

How did I find myself the lost lone
one in alone and lonely by the pier
we used to so love beginning...

each other's echoes
finishing
each other's echoes

Haibun - Blue Spring Oolong

2009-03-01T23:40:00.002-05:00

Blue Spring Oolong

The tea has travelled from the Fujian province of winding
mountain streams with gentle breezes at 3000 feet. The
leaves, slightly fermented, are shaped by hand with liquorice
sugar into pebbles resembling unpolished lapis lazuli. As the
oolong steeps, the deepening amber emits a delicate aroma,
spreading a light, unexpected sweetness onto the tongue.

Spring
sky blue sky
through the leaves

Haibun - A Sunday Almost Night

2009-02-09T11:24:00.001-05:00

A Sunday Almost Night

Down by the jetty I sit as the sun dips
into the distant ocean, crossing the nearly
straight line between sea and sky.

It vanishes slowly, leaving rays of light
in peach and rose, soaked up by cotton
clouds.

As they pass above me, hastened by a
cool wind, I head back home, the sand
still warm beneath my bare feet.

moonless night -
the sky becomes
day's shadow

Haibun - Drift

2009-01-01T01:16:00.001-05:00

Drift

Through the depths of a dream, I can
feel your touch...rising, roused, we glide
in a featherbed, half-awake, half-asleep.

scented sheets -
white lilac covered by
the darkness of snow

Held by you, on some wading pond,
I float and arc - letting myself fly as
bow, arrow and target become one.

The archer hits the mark.

rings through rings --
the glow of a Romeo
y Julieta

Haibun - The Colour of Rain

2008-12-01T19:57:00.003-05:00

The Colour of Rain

The early autumn that she moved next to me, some
of the roots had taken hold on my side. Branches
had given way through slats in the fence I built.
Twisted shadows climbed above the arbours beyond...

This late spring, her lawn will be a lush green but
mine will be hidden beneath dewy, snowlike, silken
drifts. They will be the most delicate hues of dusk and
dawn in sweet, damp clouds, the colour of rain.

by moonlight,
I cut a spray of plum
from my neighbour's tree

Haibun - Lys Mediterranee

2008-11-01T10:18:00.007-04:00

Lys Mediterranee

She takes my hand, murmurs my name,
then gives it back.

"Ah, memories" she sighs.

Almost two decades have passed since
I clutched her chill hand...

The hill is steep, nearly a straight drop
into shimmering sand, a turquoise sea.
Green warmth of angelica root weaves
through grass wild with lilies.

"If I jump will you love me?" she laughed.
"I already love you" I lied.

Wearing caftans, we eat tabouleh with
bare hands.

sun aslant
a casablanca lily's
oblique shadow

hortensia anderson

Haibun - Calligraphy Exhibition III

2008-10-31T09:27:00.001-04:00

Calligraphy Exhibition III

I wait as the Master waits. He inhales and
with his brush of black sumi ink, he exhales
the enso on cream-white parchment.

zazen --
inhale the belly enso
exhale the world

Haibun - Gazelle

2008-09-01T03:47:00.003-04:00

Gazelle

Frightened souls somehow find each other.
As I stepped into the bar, I found you.

By daylight, the forest of darkness dissipated
revealing us naked, in a clearing. Thus, I fled.

Tonight, you clutch me, say you are lost without
me - forget the three decade chasm between us.

So I relent - between my breasts, you dream like
a baby - having lost this fear that keeps me from
telling you my real name.

a swirl of leaves...
the startled gazelle
bounds away

Haibun - The Beach Scene

2008-08-01T00:35:00.001-04:00

The Beach Scene

They embrace until, almost entirely
beneath the waves, she runs, lying
across a stretch of sand.
He follows. Standing, then kneeling
above, droplets of sea dripping, his
mouth crushes into hers.
She tells him nobody ever kissed her
the way he does.
How I yearn to say those lines...

rolling in sand --
we make love with the moon
in the sea

Haibun - Heart of the Pond

2008-07-07T10:35:00.002-04:00

Heart of the Pond

We wait between stones thrown
at the moon mirrored on the pond.
It shatters in circles of light, spreading
to the edges, returning to the centre
as if nothing had happened.

embankment -
purple liatris spikes
reach for the stars

Haibun - Haiku Moment

2008-06-01T23:31:00.001-04:00

Haiku Moment

I sit on the jetty, a marbled paper
notebook and fountain pen with
shimmering ink in my lap.

haiku -
through the everchanging
clouds, clouds

Haibun - Calligraphy Exhibition II

2008-05-04T01:13:00.001-04:00

Calligraphy Exhibition II

With one stroke of a sweeping curve,
the black river flows through untramelled
white.

enso --
the circles unroll into
ever straighter lines

Haibun - Nowhere

2008-04-10T22:05:00.005-04:00

Nowhere

In a rare state of clarity, it occurs
to me that it has been over half a
century for me to find the "here"
and "now" in "nowhere".

lost in the green paths
of destinations
a maze

Haibun - Diana

2008-03-13T02:41:00.001-04:00

DIANA

In a grove of oak, the Roman goddess of
the moon bathes in a sparkling spring.

With her final breath, she runs fleet-footed
into the forests of another dream.

Do not mourn - she has not been lost. In
sleep, waking from dream to dream, you
will find her - in a moonbeam, in the light
the stars stole shining between the branches
of trees, in the limpid eyes of a wild deer as
she waits for you to stroke her spotted pelt .

in darkness...
the moon always somewhere
in the sky

Haibun - Reaching Blue

2008-02-09T16:44:00.000-05:00

Reaching Blue

How do they do it, I wonder as I lie
sprawled in my hammock? How do
the birds reach the blue in the sky?
How do they feel reaching blue?

I have jumped out of planes, been
lifted by colossal waves whilst surfing,
climbed dangerous cliffs, done triple flips
in gymnastics but never reached blue.

Then it happens.

As I row across the pond, a blueness seeps
into me and I keep saying "The sky is so blue,
have you ever known a sky so blue?" as a
camera keeps clicking like the trill of a bird.

The photograph in the gallery by my friend
Gabriela, considered the best of the collection,
is a black and white, extreme close-up of my face.
The sticker below says: "hortensia: reaching blue".

sky overhead -
a cloud disappears
out of the blue

Haibun - All The Way

2008-01-03T16:03:00.000-05:00

All The Way

After we make love, I call him, say
"take me to the beach" and without
a word, he does. He drives me all
the way to Montauk Point.

You say you want to know, before
knowing you don't, why I keep coming
back to you, going all the way, but never
staying, always leaving with him.

I will tell you just this once - he never asks.
We drink. The sea bubbles into the sand.
He waits. He gives me that.

summer night -
the moon wavers
in my whiskey

Haibun - Venus

2007-11-09T06:02:00.000-05:00

Venus

Through the seafoam you found me,
ground me into swirls of sand as
the evening star turned morning.

I sit by the shore, lost in memory.

The sea reaches out to me in waves
as I wonder if a single grain in the
stretch of sand we made love on remains.

venus --
a pearl in the blue
half-shell of heaven

Haibun - The Spell

2007-10-02T23:09:00.000-04:00

The Spell

Spirits in the wine escape the bottle and
enchant us - body, mind and soul.
Last night, we made love with the passion
of the lovers we once were.
Today, my heart overflows with an emptiness
I have known too often and too well.

wild grapes -
ripeness bursts
through the skins

Haibun - A Chinese Folding Screen

2007-09-22T16:41:00.000-04:00

A Chinese Folding Screen

The wood bridge has a faded feel, muted by
clumps of brilliant blue iris with gilded gold
leaves. How amazing that all this loveliness
has been flowing for centuries from one man's
brush.

splashes of ink --
a narrow stream branches
into eight channels

Haibun - A Dream For You

2007-08-01T17:46:00.000-04:00

A Dream For You

You feel a hand caressing you in a
dream. At first, you think your dead
lover has returned to rescue you from
dreaming your life away. You awaken.

Stars fall through the sea, their light jewels
the scales of tropical fish and play their lullaby
in Phrygian mode.You float in and out of
shadows on a bed of sand, as fine as crushed
sedative powder, drifting, drifting...

You feel a hand caressing you in a
dream. You reach out and the hand
clasps around yours. You are asleep.
I know. I dreamed you.

tangled hair -
lovers entwined
on a beach

Haibun - The Muse

2007-07-01T03:26:00.000-04:00

The Muse

This I can tell you with certainty - my muse
has died. I discovered her swaying lightly in
the closet, hanged. As I unknotted the noose,
she sank into my hand and dissolved into spark-
ling ash which disappeared. All that remained
was a closet with a silk rope.

She didn't bother to leave a note.

Spring dream --
a haibun in my journal
called "The Muse"

Haibun - Calligraphy Exhibition

2007-06-01T17:45:00.000-04:00

Calligraphy Exhibition

A room of white square with black circles
hangs on gallery walls. Bored, I escape for
a breath of sky.

enso --
the emptiness of
a full moon

Haibun - If Waves Curled In A Row

2007-05-02T23:28:00.000-04:00

If Waves Curled In A Row

If I could dive sideways through an
endless hollow, rocked to sleep in one
sweeping curve, then waking to dream
of breathing the ocean in a grotto of
crushed pearl, don't you think I would?

almost round --
wave upon wave
roll the moon's silver

Haibun - Recurrence

2007-04-03T15:41:00.000-04:00

Recurrence

You haunt my days because you live in
my nights. I wonder if death rotted you
away to parchment on bone.
I knew nothing lasts forever.
I didn't know only nothing lasts forever.

buried
in a second snowfall --
blue crocus

Haibun - Once Upon A Moonlit Heath

2007-03-02T12:19:00.001-05:00

Once Upon a Moonlit Heath

Remains of a day of aches - sharp lightning spikes of
migraine, waves of nausea, thunder rolls heavily along
the spine. A gingko tracing my body's path of pain...

my heart ------- keeping sheep ------- by moonlight

Purple clouds dip into heather. A canvas of wildflowers
glows through my window from another night across the
Atlantic. Brushstrokes lift the darkness like a dear friend.

pink violets ------- the softness ------- of her voice

(ekphrasis - originally haiga with title taken from a painting
by the U.K. artist and poet, Sheila Windsor)

Haibun - Half-Dream In Grey

2007-01-05T12:47:00.001-05:00

Half-Dream In Grey

A light, silent drizzle. I float through the
pearly veil between awake and asleep.

A bell jar of mercury spills my reflection
and I cannot get myself back together.

Folded in silk sheets, finally, I find my
spheres coalesce into a mirrored lake.

I ripple adrift. Then, stillness.

heavy fog --
I disappear
lost in thought

Haibun - Impromptu

2006-12-01T19:58:00.000-05:00

Impromptu

A lovely summer dusk...the sweet and sour of lime
mojitos over ice with crushed wild mint. Naomi's cry
"Let's do an impromptu!" convinces 20 of us to gather
in a lower east side garden.
I perform a flute solo I composed at dawn called only
"Impromptu". During the improvised coda, clouds gather,
lightning flashes across a dark sky. Then roaring claps of
thunder.

shaking the droplets
from the hydrangea
a bird lifts off

Haibun - L'Eau d'Hiver

2006-11-04T17:18:00.000-05:00

L'Eau d'Hiver

In my sorrow, I try to capture the loss
of you in a poem but the words and I -
we keep missing.
Then, unexpectedly, tears spill into a
certain joy - I find the feeling in a
perfume, like love itself.
It is light snow as it melts on my lips.
It has the starkness of bare branches -
darkly hidden yet there.
Traces of frozen hawthorn and honey.
Ice-glazed angelica. Frozen blue iris.
A fragrance of mourning.

l'Eau d'Hiver -
another's dream
becomes my own

Haibun - Next Door

2006-10-03T12:56:00.001-04:00

Next Door

On a dark and moonless night, white
lilac drifts through an open window.
It is the day since you died, the first I
have to spend in bed without you. Next
door, I listen to a man making love to
his wife adding only my silence.

stillness -
six feet of ground
between us

Haibun - Stroll

2006-08-04T15:28:00.000-04:00

Stroll

How lovely and sweet these climbers
some consider weeds - cream and
yellow honeysuckle with their droplets
of nectar; the purple-blue fog of wisteria.
I come home, petals of wildflowers tangled
in my hair.

trumpet vine
with its smooth coral neck
a hummingbird hovers

Haibun - Water Stone, 1986

2006-07-09T21:24:00.001-04:00

Water Stone, 1986

Surrounded by a field of white rocks
roughly the same size and shape, the
black basalt tsukubai murmurs. It is
like glass, polished smooth as the
water flowing over its irregular edges.
I wonder if, before his first chisel,
Noguchi had already heard the sound

early Spring --
as it strikes the stones,
water finds its voice.

Haibun - The Empty Plate

2006-06-04T18:35:00.000-04:00

The Empty Plate

The enamelled plums are plump and deeply blue on
a creamy underglaze. Camellias bloom over the edges.
Three centuries haven't wilted the pale pink petals nor
dulled the porcelain's glossy finish.

devoured...
the clusters of ripe green grapes
we held in our hands

Haibun - Riptide

2006-04-04T12:03:00.000-04:00

Riptide

For hours and miles, I have been wandering on the beach.
We were supposed to spend the summer here but you have
died unexpectedly and now my life is adrift.

Between two stones I free a trapped blue-clawed crab - I
imagine she has gotten lost, trying to find her way.

ocean waves --
pebbles roll around
in the riptide

Haibun - En Passant

2006-03-05T17:50:00.000-05:00

En Passant

All night it has rained and today, the sky
takes on a delicate blueness. There is a
freshness in the just-washed breeze.
You wait for me by the gate to your loft -
my pink ballet slippers soundless against
the cobblestones.
We embrace and I close my eyes, pressing
my lips against your neck, the clean, distinct
scent of you - cucumber and wheat.
You open the gate to the scent of white lilacs
in full bloom - lush, dripping petals reminding
me of snow and clouds.

brushing my hair -
our shadows touch
in passing

Haibun - The Comfort of Bubbles

2006-02-11T15:40:00.001-05:00

The Comfort of Bubbles

Before I get to the beach, comes the grief.
I have been expecting it like our child I once
carried and lost. A sweeping stroke of sea
and sand curves one into the other the way
we once curved one into the other.
It is your birthday. You have left me.
Alone. Lonely. With only imagined memories
of the night of your death.
A wave curls, its hollow mirrors the hollow in
my heart.
As it dies, bubbles of seafoam at the shoreline
join the sand with its bubbles of breathholes.
Another wave has been born.
Afterwards, at the road, I turn back. There,
amidst bubbles of breath and foam, I find the
waves, waving.

by the shore
wavy lines of salt --
aquarius

Haibun - Living Through Death

2006-02-01T00:28:00.000-05:00

Living Through Death

I fall asleep and dream of your absence
only to awaken and rise to the surety of
it. Your imprint on the sheets has been
erased by my own tossing and turning.

The plenitude of emptiness overflows
with pain.

But the last light of dusk is the loneliest,
in a lovely lilac haze of clouds. My faith
in the first star to wish upon has failed me.
And the moon appears only if she must.

winter sun
a grey cloud covers it
darkness at dawn

Haibun - Blues in Black and White

2006-01-09T14:13:00.000-05:00

Blues in Black and White

Waves rise and reach for the stars but
always fall. I have lost my voice to a
dream I am unable to remember.
The sky stays black despite the constell-
ations. Along a crenellated edge, white-
caps scribble their endless poem.
What can they say that hasn't been said
already?

January wind --
on a moonlit beach;
I sink into my shadow

(in memory of Matthew Kasha)

Haibun - Passage d'Enfer

2005-12-06T08:04:00.001-05:00

Passage d'Enfer

Trees twine like arches of a cathedral. I have brought
the three treasures - frankincense and myrrh melded
by the warm gold of a falling sun. I step through a
portal of branches, green mosses cool with the prints
of a deer
...a light muskiness remaining.
There, a single perfect white lily is rising as if from a
deep sleep.

awakening...
a strand of black pearls
from a dream

Haibun - The Spirit Clad

2005-11-09T21:26:00.006-05:00

The Spirit Clad

It has been said that in November, the veil
between worlds turns gossamer. As I walk
in the woods, a peculiar chill seeps into my
marrow, kept warm by the spirits. I wear
this during the month of transitions - of
births, of deaths - in my family.

North wind --
a rusted scythe
shreds the clouds

Haibun - Kanji

2005-10-13T17:52:00.001-04:00

Kanji

I dip the brush in black ink, make
strokes across the blank white page.
If you didn't know, you might have
supposed it a Chinese calligraphy or
in some other Oriental language.

The strokes are scars - sweeping half-
moon curves, a tiny v flock of birds,
vertical lines wavering upward, pagoda
eaves, other horizons...in the language
of my self, the kanji means "torso".

scalpel -
getting down
to basic structures

Haibun - Sa Majeste de Rose

2005-09-11T16:27:00.000-04:00

Sa Majeste de Rose

Wind carries the scent of a woman
in the Alsace region of France across
the Atlantic.
She is a rose held to the branch.
Masses of verdant leaves spill dewdrops
on silken petals. How one can forget she
has thorns!

summer fog --
a green beer bottle
rolls in with the waves

Haibun - Verte Violette

2005-08-02T03:45:00.001-04:00

Verte Violette

By my cedar with spicy-resin wood, I reach
clusters of violets with fan-shaped flowers
of subtle blue, heart-shaped leaves of tender
green. I mingle the sweetness of raspberry, of
rose with iris, a heliotrope resting with Emily
Dickinson. I can recall it whilst asleep, dreaming,
until awake...

a patch of violets --
the willow leans
to touch their scent

Haibun - The Wait

2005-07-05T12:10:00.002-04:00

The Wait

Such a wait since you left. I walk my reflection around
the lake. The wind kicks up sending ripples across the
glassy surface. A full moon shines down on her ever-
changing face. "Just us two again" I say to her but she
says nothing and a flowering branch eclipses us both.

evening star --
how will I wait until
you turn morning?

Haibun - La Haie Fleurie de Hameau

2005-06-13T07:09:00.003-04:00

La Haie Fleurie de Hameau

I return to the hamlet of childhood - bordered by
hedges of white flowers - masses of honeysuckle
drip nectar as jasmine sweetens shadows cast by
spikes of heady tuberose. The wind remains in love
with the hyacinth; the narcissus' by the reflecting
pool remain in love with themselves.

summer dream --
the perfume atomiser
shattered glass

Haibun - Strength

2005-05-15T20:23:00.000-04:00

Strength

Finally, I gather my remaining strength
and make my way riverward. Foamy
white waves meet the clouds. Windblown
sails on the scattered day boats disappear,
then reappear just as unexpectedly. Like
strength. I collapse on a bench until the
clouds blacken and shred against a gold
sky. A hidden sun makes way for night.
I can't remember a May with such a chill.
I imagine it sharpening the points of stars.

by my side
the moon in the river
wavers with me

Haibun - Hammock

2005-04-11T12:51:00.000-04:00

Hammock

Strung between two trees, the Mayan
hammock is a light woven webbing of
thin cotton strings. Together, cradled
above the green lawn and below the
blue-hued stars, the ecru hand-woven
bed holds us from dusk until dawn. How
I didn't know back then, the comfort of
the fringe, twisted back and forth between
my fingers, as I lay without you among
the wildflowers.

moonlight and shadow
ebb and flow
with the wind

Haibun - Voleur de Roses

2005-04-02T16:20:00.001-05:00

Voleur de Roses

After the thunderstorm, she hoists herself
over the stone fence into the rose garden.
Petals quilt the rain-soaked grass. A lightning-
swept wind blows through the brambles. The
intrique clings to her like a secret mist. Before
she escapes, she steals a plum - the ripe juice
drips.

remains of the thief -
bergamot, roses, plum
in the patchouly

Haibun - A South Asian Tale

2005-03-19T15:57:00.000-05:00

A South Asian Tale

No-one knew it, but the sea had been crying. Around the
Indian Ocean, the lace of her coral reefs had been ripped
apart with dynamite. "for shipping" man said. On the coast-
line, the lush mangroves with their verdant crowns, had been
ripped apart by their roots. "for hotels" man said. The sea
cried into the sand beds, into her mother-of-pearl shells
she cried and cried salty tears.

On the day she rose, the wave had no face.
Like an unexpected nightfall with the children
playing in the sand.

There they were once -
children playing in the sand,
swept out to sea

Haibun - Mimosa Pour Moi

2005-02-19T09:22:00.000-05:00

Mimosa Pour Moi

Almost asleep, I slip into a world of green...a stroll along the rugged coast amidst the froth and foam of mimosa, whose tiny yellow flowers sing light and airy notes as they float off into the hyacinth and iris blues. Deeper into the dream, the sap-infused leaf and stem spray sweet cucumber nectar from branches swaying in the winds from the shore.

across a dark sky --
the moon trails pale
chiffon clouds

Haibun - Sixty Years' Passing

2005-01-28T22:43:00.000-05:00

Sixty Years' Passing

On the loading ramp of a
Berlin train station there
are candles in the snow.
The railway tracks at Auschwitz
have parallel lines of flame.

In my early childhood, I knew
old men and women with
numbers on their forearms.
Their numbers have dwindled.
The German President was silent.

winter fog --
the stillness of barbed wire
the absence of Japan

Haibun - Ave Maria

2005-01-13T14:30:00.000-05:00

Ave Maria

A plaster Madonna - the feel of bleached bones.
i dip the brush, stroke her outer garments and
eyes cerulean blue. For her inner garment and lips,
an almost mauve pink... as if she had been left
without a breath. i leave her flesh, her beckoning
hands unpainted. at her feet, i paint blood red roses.
then, i glue a piece of wood in her belly and hammer
a nail in her womb, hang an oval mirror and place
her facing west.

centre of the sun --
a golden halo
surrounds your face

Haibun - Songs in the Key of Love

2005-01-04T13:59:00.000-05:00

Songs in the Key of Love

it had been over three years since i had been
to our country house in New England. my aunt
Leslie had been with us, before we knew about
the lung cancer that would spread to her brain.
as i drove along the winding road to pine lane,
i could hear again her voice filled with anguish,
"hortensia please, please tell me about death"
and my refusal unlike the others, to lie. "i don't
know. i only know that i have you in my heart
always." "thank you" she said and lapsed into a
coma that night, dying the next day. turning into
our driveway, i caught the sun glinting off the two
sets of windchimes we had both bought my mother.
they were still hanging on the apple tree. although
we hadn't known that the other was bringing them,
we both chose windchimes with the same notes.

sunlight through tears --
small breezes carry songs
through green leaves

Haibun - The Farmhouse, 1825

2004-12-09T06:52:00.000-05:00

Farmhouse, 1825

The original gate has been blocked by
hedges. Outside, moss covers the stone
path. Light breezes carry wild mint through
the bent cedar. Geranium petals splash their
warm hues around a bird bath and through
the green grass.

Inside, the red glass globe of a train station
lamp, long retired, hangs from the ceiling.
By the cold stone hearth, a broom with a short
handle waits for a tiny witch. The smoke-grey
cat, quieter now since losing his mate, sits in
deepening shadow.

Awhile back, two sisters dropped by. They had
been born here and wanted one last visit to
their childhood home.

farmhouse --
feeling the centuries
in the wood

Haibun - Waves of Wind

2004-11-30T14:42:00.000-05:00

Waves of Wind

Night-blooming jasmine surfs the waves of
wind. With the full moon, its creamy blossoms
open, their scent seeping through keyholes, silk
sheets and dreams, lingering faintly well into
the following day. With the sun, closed into
narrow greenish tubes, the plant seems so
innocent. But I know better.

held in the flower --
Majnun's love for Layla
waits for a starry breeze

Haibun - Beach

2004-11-30T14:41:00.001-05:00

Beach

Held captive by the heat of the sun, we lie sprawled
on an island of electric green towels. Overcoming
my laziness, I reach into the cooler. The ice has not
melted completely and the cherries are sweet and tangy,
bursting with juice. We spit the pits in Gabriel's sand
bucket and he carries it to the shoreline with a three-
year-old's natural joy and tosses them into the sea.
High above, gulls screech against the low rumble
of waves as I feel myself drift into delicious dreams.

a cherry tree
from the ocean's depths --
blossoms swept by tides

Haibun - Bayberries

2004-11-30T14:26:00.003-05:00

Bayberries

Climbing the bayberry cliff, Indian
clay almost crumbles beneath my bare
feet. Breathlessly, I hoist myself by
clutching the sand dunes. Above the
sea waves, I gather bayberries with my
hands.

Boiling the berries, I let them cool until
the wax hardens from dusk to dawn. Then,
from dawn to dusk, I warm the wax until it
softens. I pour it into wick-set molds.

star-shaped --
the scent of the beach
in melted wax

Haibun - The Sickroom Window

2004-09-18T03:58:00.000-04:00

The Sickroom Window

Another night of rain passes into a day
of stiffened joints. I force myself to get
up to open the window.
As I do, the world, having been held back
by the closed glass, pours in. I let myself
lie down again.
Tightness loosens into drowsiness as a
trace of sweetness carried on a breeze
reaches me.

gnarled peach tree --
frothy blossoms
cling to the clouds

Haibun - Rahat Loukoum

2004-09-18T03:51:00.000-04:00

Rahat Loukoum

By the bank of the boat pond, Khadija and I lie down.
The morning star has turned evening and the sun eases
over the wisteria pergola.

Khadija sits up and rustles through her grandmother's
wicker basket. On a gold-rimmed plate, cubed jellied
jewels sparkle in a dust of finely crushed sugar.

I hold the tiny two-pronged wooden fork and pierce
the confection. As I touch my tongue to it, a burst of
simple sweetness is so pure, it draws me in.

Then, as I ease my teeth through the delicacy , the complex
sweetness of creamy Noor dates unfolds around pale green
pistachio and deepening Damask rose.

Sugar moon --
the prayer rug of grass
hidden by blossoms

Haibun - Returning

2004-09-13T14:42:00.000-04:00

Returning

My father was a fisherman. Before dawn,
he surfcast off the coast of Montauk from
a favourite boulder he liked to stand on.
Ten years after his death, I return during
a storm and come upon the boulder awash
in waves. For some reason, I expected it
to have gone with him.

dusk in winter --
a roiling sea
churns the sand

Haibun - Sweet Grass

2004-09-13T14:33:00.000-04:00

Sweet Grass

She shows me how to weave blonde baskets
with a light hand. As we braid the oval reeds
with sweetgrass, their delicate but rich green
runs through the wicker like rivulets after rain.

darkness woven
into the tangled leaves --
summer evening

Haibun - North Shore

2004-09-13T14:15:00.000-04:00

North Shore

Our summer house was built in the 1920s
and had a shower outside. During the day,
the sun warmed the pipes. On hot nights,
my sister and I took turns reaching up to
tug the chain as the spray turned cool, then
cold. I can recall her so clearly - shivering,
almost blue in the shadows.

washing our hair --
streams of moonlight
down her back

Haibun - The Lotus Pool

2004-09-13T13:17:00.003-04:00

The Lotus Pool

Somehow, the air always seems gentle
with stillness by the silent pool. With
roots in the earthy mud, the lotus blooms.

By dusk, blooms close, sinking through
the dark surface of water. By dawn, they
open again, to the golden fire of light.

sacred lotus -
once remembered
never forgotten

Haibun - Tracelessness

2004-09-13T13:15:00.000-04:00

Tracelessness

Night and pain both have a love for the dark. Once
again, I find myself swallowing another pill. I have
lost count of the pale orbs but the pain knows, knows
precisely. And, as a dreaminess flows in me, the pain ebbs.

"I should have been an archaeologist of myself" I say, giggling.
My bones, bleached by the sun, will be awash, ashore. Hopefully,
they will be scattered. No Voodoo nerves to pinprick this flesh and
blood poppet or muscles to tie sailor's knots and angler's loops.

"Some day" I say, giddily."They will wonder about my life over my
death - yes, even though, oddly enough, the first made me yearn
for the second." But, a snowflake has drifted onto my hand, melting
with a sweetness that brings tears because already I am forgetting...

my pale face
in the dark window pane --
a cameo

Haibun - La Chasse Aux Papillons

2004-09-13T13:10:00.000-04:00

La Chasse Aux Papillons

In my dream, I stroll beneath the lindens...the summer
sun warms the orange and lemon blossoms, coaxing the
release of their gentle fragrance to the stronger tuberose
and jasmine blooming farther away. I awaken to the feel
of a butterfly wing brushing against my cheek.

unveiled --
clouds part to reveal
the winter moon

Haibun - Andalusian Gaspacho

2004-09-13T13:07:00.000-04:00

Andalusian Gazpacho

The tomatoes - seemingly ripened and reddened
by the summer day - are cored and quartered. The
holiest of trinities - fresh garlic ground by my mortar
and pestle into paste, moistened stale breadcrusts and
sherry vinegar from Sevilla have been stirred into a
glass bowl - their flavours have seeped into brilliant
colour. As night spreads her tablecloth of stars, I smooth
the soup, anointing it with olive oil from Cordoba.

almost autumn --
a Flamenco tune
on a lone guitar

Haibun - Fracas

2004-09-13T13:04:00.000-04:00

Fracas

First, faint neroli and peach among the greens...
then, the chaos of a million blooms unfolding...
white flowers, luminous as stars, tumble over
and over in dark woods of cedar and sandal...
settling at last, onto oakmoss in constellations.

winter wind --
a tuberose pegasus
trembles

Haibun - A Passing Storm

2004-09-13T13:00:00.000-04:00

A Passing Storm

Before rain, leaves turn upside down and
silvery as if presaging lightning. i pause in
stillness...silence...the wait for thunder.

windshift --
tarnished clouds gather as one
and break

Then, as quickly... trees drip greenness until
slow enough to become droplets... in a golden
calm - another quiet...one without waiting.

after the storm --
an origami crane
floats on a stream