At the Pier



At the Pier

The ship, only a tiny white point at the horizon, but she still stands and waves after it. No, she wouldn't cry today! She had sworn it.

So she stands there and waves with his handkerchief, his scent–-unmistakable, alive, and close.

She doesn't feel the gust fo wind coming, suddenly the cloth flies out of her hand, whirls high up, descends again into her direction, and then flutters out to the sea. Eagerly, as if it wants to catch up with the vanishing ship ...

gathering shadows
on an empty shoreline
night falls

isabella kramer


first published on CONTEMPORARY HAIBUN OLINE, Vol. 15 - No. 4  Jan. 2020

 Have had a haibun chosen for CONTEMPORARY HAIBUN OLINE, Vol. 15 - No. 4 #poetry #haibun #publication


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wet feed between daffodils



wet feed between daffodils

fugue in concrete
the violets nobody planted


a birds whistle PERFECT
finding a golden coin in mud


self-isolation
cat’s best birthday ever


complex cloud patterns
someone’s new language
drifts high above


wooden terrace
the stupid goldfish jumps
out of his glass again


covid-19 or not
the birch has born
new petals


the spring-like smile
of an empty park bench


veredit©isabella.kramer2020


first published on weird laburnum 22. March 2020 by Michael O'Brien



empty pathway 
footprints leave its dust
a viral wind 


©magyar





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