Snowfall in Creighton
snowfall warning in effect almost a grouse of snow has fallen so far Brenda Schmidt
Posts
No Instruction Manual
One tonne of feathers/ eight pounds of stardust. Baby, now what do I do? Kateri Lanthier
Got News, Part 3
What I didn’t record of you will die with people who I will never meet. Perhaps a step-brother took one shot in a home movie where you spoke, probably mumbling, probably looking down and away from the camera. Maybe directly into the lens, laughing over what you said so it’s unintelligible. I’ve never seen it. sparrow bobs a beeline is the line a cat makes Pearl Pirie Read Got News, Part 1 and Part 2
from "A Thousand Years" (Wordless)
A friend once asked me why I would want to devote my entire life to writing haiku. I could tell by her tone of voice that what she really was asking was why I would want to waste my entire life writing haiku. I told her that I wrote haiku because I did not feel that I was capable of attaining enlightenment by serving tea. the first snow if I write it disappears the first snow Marco Fraticelli
Dressing for Dinner
You can’t order take out for your husband and the pigs. You comb your daughter's long golden hair. Where are they going, the stars? Tomasina Salmon
Got News, Part 2
The school clock you bought that you watched as a lad is still in your room. No one winds it, but no one got rid of it either. It isn’t your room anymore. It’s the guest room. Mom took my old room instead. She gave away your harrows, your tractor, most of the harnesses, wagon. Put them into use, someone. Probably James. And your guitar, your suits all your clothes. Not that you were figuring on wearing them again anyway and they’re too big for me. what horses won’t use porcupines will — tooth-frayed collar Pearl Pirie Read Part 1 of Got News here
From "A Thousand Years" (Butterfly Effect)
People are constantly disappearing: some suddenly like lightning, others less dramatically like thunder. But like you, most are more like the morning mist lifting. They are there for a while, then they are not. And in the end, it matters little how they left . . . what remains is that we are still alone. until your hat faded into a butterfly I yearned for you Marco Fraticelli & Chiyo-ni Each entry in A Thousand Years contains a haiku written by the 18th century poet Chiyo-ni and imagined letter to her former lover. Translations and inventions by Marco Fraticelli.