Thursday, January 23, 2014

Quilt (Poem 296)

His coffee cup meets the table: crack. She winces, and looks away from his shameful anger. The world, after all, is acknowledged to be unfair and unpredictable; but it is also graced with the gentle, everyday beauty she witnesses from this very window while she sews. With calm certainty, she knows he will soon wander back to her chair. With practiced nonchalance, he'll wrap her in a one-armed embrace and kiss her--first on her forehead, then on her left cheek, and finally, tenderly, on her slightly-parted lips.


Layers, thick and thin,
Married with fine filaments,
Pliant, enduring



(c) 2014, by Hannah Six




(Teachable moment: This form is known as Haibun, a short work of prose combined with a gently-related haiku. And now you know!)