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Volume 45.1
Winter-Spring
2014

 

sample haibun

 

Stale Confessions

“I was a good wife,” she says, crying.

And I thought I was a good husband, I mutter as I retreat to my office.

But what of the shutting down, a behaviour modeled by my father who rarely said a word, who even more rarely raised his voice, who often retreated to his bedroom from his tearful wife, locked the door, and turned on the radio ... loud.

I think of saying something ... anything ... and don’t.

embers—
even her words
drift by


by Ray Rasmussen

 

 

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