Wednesday, October 20, 2010

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy


Brass fills the shell in darkness people dance in Howard Park a few motion to people half inside a melody hypothesized suppose it were to rain in half an hour how long would light be held away what speed the windshield wipers who's on percussion.Some woodwinds seem intruders in the wooded part of where we are the street quite near people knowing one another wave and each performer of each midrange horn becomes a name. The trees still giving off a dayful of suntime start to feel like trees if you are young enough you imprint upon memory to come freedom to vary in the small Midwestern masterpiece.

Summer in pieces, puzzling tune, what harmony fits here beside the pale steam just above the chlorinated water

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