Contemporary Haibun Online 11.1

Enjoy the April 2015 issue of CHO which includes:

Featured writer: Harriot West
The winning haibun in the 2014 Jerry Kilbride Memorial English Language Haibun Contest
An interview with Ray Rasmussen
Lynne Rees tackling language choices in her essay exploring 'Theme and Meaning in Haibun'

And of course a selection of outstanding contemporary English language haibun from writers across the globe.

Here's a little taster from contributor, Lynn Edge.

Rancher's Wife

My husband can barely walk, but he goes out and checks his cows every day even though he's down to only fourteen head. He hopes to drop dead in the pasture. How can one compete with that kind of devotion?

a cow bawl
carries through the mist
almost winter

Contemporary Haibun Online 11.1 April 2015

Comments

haiku commentary

deeper shadows where the walls meet... autumn rain – Mark E. Brager, The Heron's Nest, Volume XXI, Number 3 (2019) I imagine a corner, two walls meeting at right angles. I can see the depth of shadow there. If I reach out, I am sure the surface – rough brick or smooth masonry – will be cooler; perhaps because the autumn rain I now notice has started to fall. The places where people meet are more emotionally complex, stepping, as we may have to, from the comfort of the familiar to the challenge of the unfamiliar. Those “deeper shadows” may be rich with empathy and gratitude. Eshadows in corners Photograph by Steven Castledinequally, they may be fraught with conflict and umbrage. Brager’s haiku shifts me from inanimate objects to human experience. I sense loss through the image of “autumn rain,” or at least an understanding, or acceptance, of inevitable change that results in something being left behind. Perhaps change, even for the better, always leaves a

haibun ~ I am running through the wondrous silence of history ...

... past standing stones, invisible tombs, the path Chaucer's pilgrims took across the North Downs, the stone cold dead in churchyards, listening to the sound my feet make on lanes, on mud and stone, sharing my breath, the thump of my heartbeats, with sheep, the sky, fields. Sometimes I wonder how I got here, what propelled me forward to this moment when the snags of fleece along a wire fence shine with glory, when another rise in the track ahead is an inspiration not a defeat. And I think of the words, 'yes', and, 'you can', and the centuries of people before me who said them out loud, or quietly to themselves, believing that something could change. And here I am changing almost nothing in the world and still feeling better for it. trail run seeing the wood and the trees Blithe Spirit 29.1 - 2019

photo haiku

even amongst all this grey light

an open field

Search This Blog