Sunday, 28 September 2008


on water
a friend looks back
no more

Friday, 26 September 2008

Photo Friday

Done when I still knew where my little plastic fisheye was. :-(

Tuesday, 23 September 2008

One Single Impression--Autumn

in the crisp air
the cry of geese on high
frost dancing on glass

Friday, 12 September 2008

Fiction Friday--toy

They found the boy wild in the wood. He was naked and mute. The rummor that he was with wolves melted into the forest much like the creatures themselves.

The natives had long told of the boy. Only now had some learned men come, to capture him for study. No one asked him if he wanted a life of domesticity; no one asked him what he thought of men's clothes, men's food, or men's ways.

The learned men thought him an extraordinary discovery, a blank slate in which they could inflict their scientific studies. They were from the culture of the enlightenment, after all. In their supiority they never thought to feel for the boy. He was triply cursed; an Indian, a feral child and not even raised by his own kind.

They took him to a house in their town. One room was to be his own, one was for their experiments. In one corner of his room stood his only companion, a dappled rocking horse.

In their own time the boy and the horse talked. Of course the men would say he was incapable of language and the rocking horse was only a toy. But, they weren't the boy and they weren't the horse. The boy told the horse of his life with the wolves, of being free; his former life. The horse told the boy of a life imagined, a life of freedom.

At night, when finially left alone, they dreamed. And in their dreams they were free.

Wednesday, 10 September 2008

One Single Impression--defenses down

Standing naked
waiting your approval
you like what you see
you love me.

Pen Me a Poem--Hurricane

a trickle
on the dessert
of the hurricane

Friday, 5 September 2008

Haibun for Fiction Friday

Mt Koya was cold. So cold it froze
the offerings to the Gods.
The Gods were so cold they knew nothing of
the suffering of the monks.

In the shadow the monks lived, in the
coldest corner of the coldest mountain of Japan.
This knowledge came to Akira the morning
he found the tofu offering frozen dried to the alter.

Akira watched the cranes fly through the sky
of ice, as white as the peak of the mountain.
At night he dreamed and in his dreams he became
one of the birds of heaven.
And he flew someplace warm.

The dream would end the moment the cold crept into
the plain room where he slept. It curled around
his toes, and his fingers. It nipped his slender
nose and kissed his eyelashes.
And he knew that Koya-san had caught him back again.

Frozen deep
in the heart of the mountain

Thursday, 4 September 2008

Haiku for Totally Optional Prompts and One Single Impression

Birds gather
suspended in sky like clouds
going home


Since one prompt was 'time to leave' and the other was 'spectacle' I thought they worked well for the same subject, birds flying south for winter.