Tag: poetry

Friends & Foes: A Haibun

finalfawn1

As I approach the edge of an old mine dump overlooking Lake Ore-Be-Gone in Northeast Minnesota, a lone, white-tailed fawn and I have just spotted each other. He could easily leap over the edge, and run down the hillside to escape me if he wanted to, but he just stands there, seemingly confused. I don’t know if it’s my long, “white-tailed” beard or what, but slowly he begins to make his way toward me.

Suddenly, he catches my scent, and his confusion clears right up. He turns, leaps over the edge, and soon disappears into the woods below–the very place his real foes lie in wait.

***

a lone, dappled fawn

flees the unbeknownst safety

of my company

 

finalfawn2JPG

–Photos by me

True Sights & Hog Sounds

Farmer__Pig

I’m staring at the clock;

I can hear the cog sounds

As I’m kneeling here to pray

For some simple, true sights,

But people come and knock,

And my faithful dog sounds–

So I’ll make them go away

And go look for new sights.

I stop down at the dock–

You should hear the frog sounds!

And walking all the day,

I find quite a few sights,

Like a farmer and his stock

Both making hog sounds,

So a warning, if I may:

You cannot undo sights!

Loon (haibun)

final loon

A loon’s eerie tremolo echoes across the crystal-clear waters of this old, abandoned mine pit. A diving bird, he’s just surfaced, and is eyeing me warily, but to fly requires a long run-way for take-off, so he’ll probably just dive underwater again, and pop up somewhere else. His mate doesn’t answer; she’s most likely diving for fish now.

The rocky ledges of these old mine pits provide the perfect habitat for nesting and breeding during the summer months. To top it off, the DNR stocks most of these pits with Rainbow Trout.

Apparently, he’s not as afraid of me as I thought, and he calls out to his mate again in that long, forlorn wail. This time, she answers.

* * *

the tuxedoed loon–

in proper attire for

a banquet of fish

–Photo by me