I didn’t intend to sleep. I simply longed for the ocean. Poor facsimile, I found a YouTube sound file–eleven hours of waves crashing on an anonymous beach. Earbuds in, I closed my eyes and fantasized of a castle on a shore in the mist, myself…

The teasing of the innocent children felt like barbs that left invisible wounds on the child at the centre. Dark, they called him. He stood stunned and shunned. “Mummy, I need to ask you something” he said to his mother. His mother replied “Yes, tell…

As a girl, young, bordering on naïve, I had a tree swing. My stepfather climbed the backyard tree to tie the ropes with hands that were accustomed to being fists. Hour upon hour I sat in the swing listening to the ropes creak and the…

Her long light brown braids, bouncing on her back as she ran to her new bicycle. 6-years-old she had just learned to ride with the two wheels. Her Daddy was there, to set his little girl free. He sent her only down the block. The innocence of…

His gentle purring vibrates the chair, as his whiskers dance to the rhythm of his dream. He chases crystal winged butterflies and downy grey mice across the fields of playful daffodils bouncing their sun brilliant heads in the winds teasing fingers. Twitching ear tips give…

Note: I read on the link provided that micro-haibuns limit the prose section to 20-180 words. I wrote what I thought was enough for the poem and it’s exactly 20, so I guess it’s enough! And forgive the formatting, I think it looks better this…

(a haibun)   My mama always said there are no good moves. Something always gets lost. Something always gets broken. Some last minute much-needed kitchen item winds up in a box marked Bathroom. There isn’t enough packing tape in all the universe for all of…

(a haibun)  My mama always says there are no good moves. Something always gets lost. Something always gets broken. Some last minute much-needed kitchen item winds up in a box marked Bathroom. There isn’t enough packing tape in all the universe for all of Granny’s…