Wolf Moon

An American Sentence for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.

 

Wolf Moon
“As different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

Beneath the full Wolf Moon, the frozen earth sleeps in its soft argent light.

Lake Moon

For Linda’s prompt at dVerse Poets, for “Prosery” Monday. Prosery is where prose and poetry collide, sort of like a haibun but fictional. Mine is true. I rarely write flash fiction.  It is ended with a landay, an Afghan poetic form written and sung by the women.

 

Lake Moon
“The winter moon becomes a companion, the heart of the priest, sunk in meditation…” Yasunari Kawabata

I sat wrapped in my grandmother’s quilt by the dark lake.  The full cold moon shone white in the black sky and reflected on the water.  Never have I touched anything smoother than the reflection of that moon.  A few wild dogs passed within a few feet of me and lapped up the reflection of that moon.  A line from a poem popped in my head – “A cow is screaming across the arroyo.”  Suddenly I jerked awake.  It was pre-dawn and the crows were waking, cawing.  The cow was far away in my dreams and the dogs had wandered away in their quest for food.  The full cold moon brings long winter days – animals burrow beneath the fallen leaves for warmth.

Haibun: January

For Kim’s prompt for Haibun Monday. Although she asks for a limit of three tight paragraphs, I have revered to the original form created by Basho – one brief and to the point paragraph along with a seasonal haiku to close instead of the long haibun with much despcription.

January
The Christmas tree is put away for another year. Darkness covers the earth in early afternoon. Cold settles about the house like a snowy shawl. It seems dull without the lit Christmas tree. We sip slow simmered bean soup for dinner.
feral cats gather –
they mass together for warmth –
feeding them is joy

snowy yard

Haibun – full beaver moon

For Frank’s Haiki Challenge #62, Winter Moon. I am keeping my new haibun short, more in keeping with the original haibun created by Basho. I am now writing haibun that are less than 65 words.

Haibun – Full Beaver Moon
The Algonquin tribes named this moon Beaver moon for the beaver traps set so beavers could be captured and many warm skins could be obtained. Early colonists also called this the full frost moon.  November cold sets in – frost sparkles on the grass
full frost moon rises
Thankgsgiving night- beavers sleep
in their lodges

full Beaver moon 11/24/18

 

The Atlantic in November

For Sanaa’s prompt at Real Toads and dVerse Poets Pub, using as a point of reference Neruda’s poem, If You Forget. Posting on Poets United Poetry Pantry as well.

The Atlantic in November
“If you are not too long, I will wait here for you.” Oscar Wilde

Remember that day by the grey-green Atlantic,
Standing there in the rain riddled with snow,
You pulled me close to you and kissed me.
We stood there lost in each other
Until the waves began to splash our boots.

Remember that day by the grey-green Atlantic
We walked in the fog
That misted our seeing, that misted our hair
With damp that made us shiver
As we wandered in the rain riddled with snow.

I remember that day by the grey-green Atlantic
Even if you do not remember.
I remember the gulls reeling overhead
crying like lost souls  in the fog.
I remember as the waves splash my boots.

 

 

Haikai Challenge #22

A gogyoshi for Frank’s challenge. https://nam01.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=http://frankjtassone.com/2018/02/24/haikai-challenge-22-2-24-18-barely-spring-haru-asashi-haiku-senryu-haiku-tanka-haiga-renga/&data=02|01||2caf53d4b6e5469e109308d57ba761b7|84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa|1|0|636550881178780870&sdata=97wwKfKCuVnJCWpEzm7e+SRmttSXgHbZEgTj/4vLqc4=&reserved=0

Barely Spring

barely spring – the daffodils
nod in the cold sun and
crabapple trees burst into pink bloom –
cold and rain forecasted for tomorrow –
barely spring, it is expected

crabapple tree

Haikai Challenge #18 Crow

#Haikai Challenge #18 (1/27/18): Raven #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #renga #haiga
I.
across the snowy field
the sound of a lone crow floats –
coldness overwhelms

II.
silent neighborhood –
distant crows break the silence –
cold and still today

Kanashimi 悲しみ – Sorrow

 Bare maple. Cold wind.

Bare cherry. Cold wind. Branches

twine but do not touch.

January Solitude Part II 2:14 am

I awaken.

Lying in the warmth of the bed

I orient myself to the strange room.

I snuggle in with satisfaction.

I am at the beach.

I am alone.

The sliding glass door

Off the balcony is cracked.

Ocean waves slough softly.

The air has a sweet smell

In addition to the salt.

I breathe more deeply

Testing the smell.

Sweet with salt?

Out of the bed and into my robe

And slippers.

I open the balcony door completely

And step outside.

It is snowing.

I stand and watch the flakes

Hurrying down to nestle on the sand.

Flakes gather on my hair

My robe

My hands and face.

Snow and ocean.

Sweet and salt.

Back into the room

And I rush to put on my clothing

And down jacket, gloves, and hat.

I grab the door key and out

Into the night.

No one is around.

I cross the sand and

Go to the edge of the surf.

Black waves, white foam

Dark sand, white snow.

I wave my arms and jump up and down.

Snow snow snow snow!

Ocean snow ocean snow!

I laugh and hold my face to the sky.

Flakes settle on my skin, my glasses.

I stick out my tongue and taste snow.

I walk along the edge.

Because of my boots,

I walk close enough

For water to touch me.

Snow and surf.

Snow and sand.

Darkness to my left.

Hotels barely lit to my right.

After awhile, I turn and head back.

Shells on the sand

Are fuzzy with snow.

Snow melts on the sand.

I turn back to the surf.

The flakes are falling faster,

Disappearing into the blackness

Of the ebbing waves.

I stand until my face is numb

And my nose runs with the cold.

I hold out my hands to collect

Flakes on my gloves.

They stay long enough for me to

Fall in love with each one

And then they disappear.