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Haibun: Some Wild Thing


Some wild thing roves outside my door. It always comes at twilight. It moves stealthily among the shadows, zigzagging, never in a straight line. It is so swift—like a meteor’s flash or the whirling rings of Saturn—that I barely catch a glimpse of it. But I know it’s there—a constant presence as night comes on. Does it mean to harm me or to help me? I’m not sure, so in order to sleep I check the door locks and chains once more.
 

The Book of Bad Luck—
why do I keep reading it?
I know how it ends.


 

Haibun © 2021 by Magical Mystical Teacher 

 

Little Ditties

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~~ 1 ~~
 
leaning on a stone
late into the afternoon—
Thoreau at Walden
 
~~ 2 ~~
 
even in the heat
setting a kettle to boil—
daily ritual
 
~~ 3 ~~
 
Startled by the cry
of a ripening cherry,
the old man stumbles.
 
~~ 4 ~~
 
a place of refuge
where only those dressed in white
find a welcome mat
 
~~ 5 ~~
 
everyone singing
a sequence of off-key notes—
the cacophony
 
~~ 6 ~~
 
murmuring a prayer
taken from an old straw hat
found in the gutter
 
~~ 7 ~~
 
hidden in darkness
a 14-carat gold ring
duller than a stone
 
~~ 8 ~~
 
outside the bedroom
something indiscernible
lurking in the dark
 
~~ 9 ~~
 
the can full of nails
wrapped round and round with a chain
everything rusting
 
~~ 10 ~~
 
after fire and flood
not even a single thought
of starting over
 
~~ 11 ~~
 
into the bookshop
one shoe off and one shoe on
for a reading fix
 
~~ 12 ~~
 
the other story
about the nifty gadget
no one can invent

 
© 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
 
 
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