on aliens and cream borders: a haibun

Piet Mondrian, ‘Broadway Boogie Woogie, 1942-43, moma.org More than a year I have been living inside this box with no divisions. Cream borders keep me company without judging my daily dancing alone and my full-hearted concerts on my own. Identical squared-rooms from my right and left stood the same size as mine.  The closest left

the garden of 17 syllables: a haibun for Basho

Five decades of wandering, in every step perhaps your heels planted seedlings of words, of love,  of wisdom, of life. So much of your history remains a hidden story. We’re you a slave, a samurai, a cook, a poet, or everything and more? We can read scrolls after scrolls but never can we know. A

open your eyes, see how the world undresses: a quadrille

(revolving earth undresses, each season unravels) spring, peeler of silent blue winter, blush in pastel young blooms, will then succumb to laughing rays of golden sun, salted seas curdle to scarlet red as autumn conquers the rusting lawns, (revolving earth undresses, each season unravels) — 02.25.2020 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash

fading murmurs (a villanelle)

Soft murmurs say the end is near, this earth will crumble, disappear. Will you let your story end here? Mouths gurgling aged, frozen beer, choosing to leave peace’s hemisphere. Soft murmurs say the end is near, tired earth sinks under cloud of fear, birds choke with vows so insincere, will you let your story end