Author: Frank J. Tassone

Haibun Poems 0

Mother’s Day Morning

Haibun Poems   The aging yellow brush of her favorite broom swishes dust and seeds off of the salmon Trex deck. Mira’s Portuguese cascades high and low like a melody as she sweeps single-handed, the...

haibun poem examples 0

A Rain Meditation

Haibun Poem   Steady rainfall. The Pastore’s new generator hums. Across the street Stacy and Laurie talk. A sparrow perches on a maple tree, taking shelter under its leaves. Cool draft at my cheek....

Japanese Poetry Forms 0

Avian Duel

Haibun Poetry   A blue jay soars downward like a falcon returning to an outstretched gauntlet. He swerves up at the last minute, perches on a branch of the maple overhanging the deck. Not...

japanese poetry forms 0

Such a Moment

Haibun Poetry   A breeze blows. The Syracuse wind chime behind the chaise sounds a three-note melody. A sparrow’s song answers. The neighbor behind my house hosts a party. Adults chat, children squeal and...

Japanese Poetry Style 1

Animus

Haibun Poetry   A six-person river raft bobbing up and down in the frigid Animus River. A paddle stretched out too far. One rapid, knocking me overboard. beyond white foam so many spruces Break...

haibun poetry 0

Our Post-Mortem

Haibun Poetry   I sit on your beige sofa across from you in your living room. Mike — your husband, my fraternity brother— prepares the VHS tape. Of your wedding. There is a moment...

Haibun Poetry, Still Life 0

First Easter after Dad

Haibun Poetry   Chocolate-centered pastries; strawberry shortcake; sliced pineapple, melon and cantaloupe: all on platters spread across the row of tables. A pitcher of homemade red wine sits near empty glasses. Mira and her...

Japanese Haibun Poem 0

Aftermath

Haibun Poetry   Blood on a barren field. Lifeless gray birches border the parched, dusty ground. A curious twilight before the coming dark. I press my hand against my open wounds. It’s drenched in...

Japanese Haibun 0

First Agape

Haibun Poetry   I turned over my rusty red tricycle in the mud room. Then I spun the wheels. And listened to their vroom. Feeling that presence that even now I can’t name. plop...

Haibun Prose 1

Naked Inattention

Haibun Poetry   We change from gym in the boy’s bathroom — talking about something that grabs my undivided attention. We walk down the gray-brown granite hallway to our first-grade class. We step inside....

Haibun Prose 0

Adoption Mine

Haibun Mom told me the story. She and Dad had applied to adopt a child. Westchester Family Services had interviewed them. Social workers inspected their immaculate two-bedroom apartment. But lawyers, doctors, stockbrokers and executives...

Meter, Poetry Prose 0

Awaiting the Doctor

Haibun Poetry   Conversations carry on outside the grain-laminate door. Papers rustle. A phone rings with a staccato four-beat tone in the key of “E”. Lights hum. I sit in the last examination room...