Category: Poetry

silk moth – – haibun

The sliding door is open, letting in the cool breeze. I pull a cotton hoodie over my head and yawn into the silence…a time to write perhaps. The world is in an uproar about the virus, about racial oppression, violence, hate, fear, poverty, injustice … … and I am tired this morning, bruised from a fall in the garden and dulled by a list of things to do jamming inside my head.

silk moth

on the window screen

are you injured or

simply still

until you fly?

.

.

©️2020 Ontheland

P.S. I believe my visitor was a Cecropia moth, a type of giant silk moth.

reopening – – haibun

The library email announces they have reopened. I may pick up the item that was on hand just before the lockdown. An excursion! I roll into the deserted community centre parking lot and spot the curbside sign with the library phone number. I obediently dial and speak to a librarian who will bring my item out to the cart near the door—about 10 metres away from where I am parked. When she comes outside we exchange waves and smiles. She disappears into the building. This is my cue to get out of my car and walk to the cart. There waiting for me is a brown paper bag with my name on it. I notice a container of Lysol wipes and a hand sanitizer pump next to it…part of a disinfection decor? “Perhaps I should get out more often” I muse as I walk back to my car.

public places

going out for a taste of

surreal

.

.

©️2020 Ontheland