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 kitchen table. He squats in his chair and draws a picture of me for his 3-day homework. His illustration shows me seated at a desk saying “what do you want?”
Every five minutes he takes a break to cuddle.
He watches the snow now and says, “It’s twirling and not going straight.”
Then he resumes reading his new Scholastic Atlas of the US.
As snow falls everywhere.
white pine tree-tops
twirl in circles
Photograph by Ondrej Supitar
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