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haibun poetry

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 when he’s in the kitchen. I see you, seated cross-legged, some serene Buddha of a woman. Only a hint of the passion we shared permeates in that fleeting look of awkward reminiscence. A guilty pleasure you quickly hide from him when he steps back in.

Somewhere else in your apartment your son sleeps. The video starts. I pretend each scene isn’t a peeling knife scalping off layer after layer of me. Our time passed long ago, but scars can still bleed. And ache.

The video ends. The night ends. I step out into a cold January night — a numb grief, long-muted, my only company as I head home.

Alone.

full moon
our breath misting the windshield
long past

more by FRANK J. TASSONE

Photograph by Gianni Scognamiglio

 

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Frank J. Tassone

I fell in love with writing ever since I wrote my first short story at the age of 12 and my first poem in high school. My free-verse has appeared in the literary e-zine Pif. My haibun has been published in Cattails, Haibun Today, Contemporary Haibun Online (CHO) and Contemporary Haibun, CHO's annual print anthology. I am honored to be a part of the Image Curve community as a contributing poet.

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