A Hornet’s Burden
Haibun A hornet carries a pale-green insect — an aphid or grasshopper — and tries to ascend. It can’t fly above the tabletop. Frankie, seated on my lap, holds his breath as it hovers...
Author: Frank J. Tassone
Robert’s 40th Birthday
Haibun Another red light. We hit nearly every one since leaving the house — late. Mom grimaces. I grind my teeth shut. Mira and Frankie sit quietly at ease. My brother’s 40th birthday pizza...
Elephants Never Forget
Haibun A bronze elephant statuette rests on four coffee-table books. Its trunk curls up in a bellow to challenge rivals or predators. Another elephant: a plaster-of-Paris statuette from a mold. It rests on the...
Father’s Day ’13
Haibun The crescendos of a jazz trumpeter blend with the plucked strings of a stand-up bass and the percussion of drums. The trio plays on as we snack on crackers and cheese, our backs...
Young Artist’s Patience
Haibun One knee on the grass. One foot on the grass. Frankie’s hands work the eraser over the page. Then he sets the ruler down and draws again. All his complaints about no AC...
A Visit to Nyack, June 30, 2013
Haibun Black icing. That dark chocolate mousse cake catches a ripple of light. The first bite — an explosion of orgasmic sweetness in my mouth. escaping rain Didier and Dumas’ French pastries We see...
A Different Perspective
Haibun Cotton ball clouds reflect off the paneled windows of Mountainside Hospital— like a view of the sky through the eyes of a fly. shade on a hot June day leaves flutter ...
A Rest at Lake Skanatatti
Haibun Sunlight flashes off the ripples spreading across Lake Skanatatti. We sit on a courtyard-sized outcropping. A Brazilian woman with a flower tattoo on her bare left shoulder talks into a two-way radio. Her...
Gray on Gray
Haibun Calcified gray dust rests on the screen of the bathroom window. Staining the sight of turned, sagging leaves under a gray sky. Leaves that wait for the next deluge or tempest. third day...
Another Aftermath
Haibun Bird songs, as I awake ahead of the alarm Headache: fruit of the prior day’s tension— or that extra glass of Burgundy Or another gift from that beloved team teacher I work through...
An Early Present
Haibun We plant petunias at Dad’s grave. I hoe out holes in front of the headstone. Frankie places the plants in and covers their roots with dirt. We plant two rows — three to...
Spring Suite, Finis: Apple Trees
Haibun The apple tree in our backyard has grown back. Dad and I trimmed it way back before he died. It’s full again, leaves covering its crowning branches in a mane of green. Frankie’s...
