Blog Archives
Haibun: Pandemic
Last year was hard—it was brutal!—as the world endured the Covid-19 pandemic. Here a mother died, there a father, and somewhere else a whole family. Some of us lost our homes, because we couldn’t work. Some of us ended up sleeping under bridges, or in fields, or in other out-of-the-way places. We were desolate. We couldn’t reach out to each other for a hug or handshake because we were in lockdown, afraid for our lives. Nothing seemed to help. And then came harbingers of hope, bearing strange names: Pfizer, Moderna, AstraZeneca—vaccines to vanquish the virus! We offered our arms for a jab, and started to look beyond our nightmare, daring to hope that our world might someday be normal again.
Hidden mountain stream—
see, a doe and her fawn come
for the day’s first drink!
Weird Tales
A brittlebush blossom on a winter’s day, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
~~ 1 ~~
In a burlap sack
a piece of bread with butter
crumbles into dust.
~~ 2 ~~
For ferocity
she cannot be forgiven,
says the priest in grey.
~~ 3 ~~
Winter afternoon—
why have you gutted my soul
by deceiving me?
~~ 4 ~~
winter afternoon—
going home to feed the dog
from an empty bag
~~ 5 ~~
winter afternoon—
crumbs of holiness hidden
in a paper bag
~~ 6 ~~
Winter afternoon—
having grained the mare,
she lies down to nap.
Haiku © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Macro Monday 2
More Sunday’s Whirligig #98
More Poetry Pantry #340 at Poets United
Starlight
Christmas tree decorations in a Yuma County, Arizona church
Where is the starlight
to keep my feet from stumbling
on the long way home?
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
Following
Abandoned irrigation ditch at dusk, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
I follow the fading light home.
Text and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More SkyWatch Friday
More Six-Word Saturday
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
Guide
Mid-December rainbow, Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Southern California
last autumn rainbow
guiding my stumbling steps home—
wind shifts to the east
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More SkyWatch Friday
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
Leafless
Remains of a dead Desert Willow (Chilopsis linearis), Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, Southern California
Seeking a new home,
even the dove passes by
the leafless willow.
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2015 by Magical Mystical Teacher
Way
Day’s end, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
midsummer moments—
taking the winding way home
just before nightfall
Haiku and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More SkyWatch Friday
More Poetry Pantry #314
More Carpe Diem’s Summer Retreat 2016: “One with Nature”
The Absence of Tread
A worn-out tire, Yuma Conservation Garden, Yuma, Arizona
The absence of tread
Is nothing to fear—
Just keep on rolling,
You’ll get there, my dear!
The way may be long,
The road may be rough,
But you and the tire
Are tougher than tough.
Not even danger
Can make you stay home,
Just like a mustang
You’re willing to roam.
So keep on rolling,
You’ll get there, it’s clear—
The absence of tread
Is nothing to fear!
Poem and photo © 2016 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Absence”
Stumbling
Fence at dusk, Temecula, California
stumbling home at dusk—
perhaps along the fence line
a sunflower blooms
Haiku © 2016 and photo © 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More SkyWatch Friday
More Haiku My Heart at Recuerda Mi Corazon
The Miners
gritty and filthy—
their faces at twilight
when they come home from the mine
one of them enters an empty house
(his wife left two months ago)
one of them finds
only fetid cabbage soup on the table—
not enough money for meat or milk
and one of them sips a bitter drink
from a mug with a broken handle
all three of them know
that nothing will ever be the same again—
the streetcar that used to stop at the corner
to carry them to the mine
(ten cents round trip)
sits rusting in the rail yard
and not even a vow to the gods
will make its wheels turn again
