I Don’t Dance, I Sway

Septembers lived and lost now gather together in repertoire, a concert without music, a melody only heard by me. September always carries for me a particular sadness. I pack up my produce while i preserve the bounty. I pickle, can, and jar summer and hope to taste the sun when deep-freeze buries us deep in darkness, usually to discover later much goes unopened or unwanted.

Time never says goodbye

This September was a bit different. No bounty from my hand, except mint from my garden, and crushed between my fingers, will rise and waft, dance through the oncoming seasons to the lyrics I alone may hear. Such as it is, with no applause, I am content.

What I call denial, or betrayal, I am learning to call my survival.

God strums in perfect rhythm

Dversepoets.com Monday Haibun. Our host, Xenia Tran writes,

“you are invited to create a haibun about September and a special moment you experienced during this month or are looking forward to.

The prose can be narrative, lyrical or terse and the ku can be either a three-line haiku or a monoku (haiku in a single line).

You can have alternating blocks of prose and verse, as long as the total word count does not exceed 250 words.”

So, I’m not sure about the monokus.