nightmusic : a haibun

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(from the haibun exercise.)

his sandpaper voice soothed the rough edges of doubt and in the space of one lunar rotation all stories were told. we spoke until words were no longer relevant and communication became something less tangible; until it became something like music floating through the silence of night as it fell on the countryside. we were the notes and though the song was not one of great length, its melody will be stuck in my head for quite some time.

self recognition
in the eyes of a stranger
affirmed by the stars.

1 Responses to “nightmusic : a haibun”

  1. Anonymous brenda, la poetisa. 

    I don't know why I can't get haibuns to work for me. It's a genuine problem at this point. Ha. I want in on the fun too dammit.

    Irregardless, this is seamlessly told. The description in the opening made me think of Donny Hathaway singing melodies over a Charlie Parker tune .. all while conversations between two stood the earth still, rotated their glances in the guff, and moved their hearts into their eyes so that each telling could find its own reason for beating.

    Lives told in an instance, held up by the mirror of its memory, indelibly printed in the underside of a yearning found and held in faith for the tomorrows that might stretch without it.

    Two beings, bumping into one another for the sort of connection that makes all the days without worth it.

    Humanity in a glance.

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