jornales

for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

the moon–a haibun perhaps?

The sun, today, quietly died in pastels. Past noon, when it sailed bleached white, it seemed to just wink; and then, it crept away trailing streaks of pink and blue gray, slipping into night. In the sky, a glow lingered: the sun’s remains perhaps? But it was only the rising moon. Full-faced, full-blossomed like a flower, it stared — a sun gone cold in its return.

white gold moon—
she arcs a bare arm
to bathe

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March 10, 2011 - Posted by | haibun, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , ,

2 Comments »

  1. sensuous, alegria

    Im thrilled to read your work again

    Comment by Emma Dalloway | March 11, 2011 | Reply

    • Thanks, Emma! To know you’re back–this for me is exhilarating!

      Comment by alee9 | March 11, 2011 | Reply


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