haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

Composition, comma, indefinite art(icle). To do more would effect recombinant futures.

Meanwhile, the remaining sunlight to move through as ideas. Lumber fields look fresh

with leaves upon them. Breezeless. If small music furnishes, a place to sit and hear and

not conjecture anymore. Tea ceremony and the act of indiscovery. To match what is.

On phone, half present, she would say, "just here." My own despair. My sadlight.

Enormously expected versus paranormal hope. Thus we disguise our being from the

cart of several perceived things. A momentum, as though something. One sure

flower makes its way up through the pavement. Metrics may not fly. A symbol makes

headway precisely in a heart. To say the word is to decide the real. And not posture

anything relaxed.

 

Episte- mine field, mined as if to mind