Author: Frank J. Tassone

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 Poetry   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...

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...

Tree Stump, Poetry Prose 0

Backyard Delight

Haibun Poem   The apple tree’s trunk split into two like outstretched open arms. A step onto a stump and an arm around one of the splits ensured an easy climb. Dean and I...

Snow Pines, Prose Poetry 0

Snow Day?

Haibun (Prose Poetry)   The slumbering birch and maple trees sway back and forth. The lowest wisps of cloud enshroud the tallest in gray mist. Snow falls everywhere. Frankie and I sit at the...

Prose Poetry 0

Tempest

Haibun Poem   Syracuse wind chime in back sings. Outside light flashes on. The wind blows on and on. Soon, I’ll step out into it. Shudder at the thought hot bite of oatmeal— last...