Author: Frank J. Tassone
Grindstone
Haibun Poem Not even mid-week of the first full week. Overcrowded 10th graders chatter at every transition. Stephan already runs his mouth off. Alex and other repeaters quietly instigate just by talking and...
Dazed and Confused
Haibun Poem Voices droned on. About Chancellors’ regulations. Graduations. Assessment deadlines. In a whirl after I looked for colleagues to ask about free periods. Stapled borders to bulletin boards. Attended pointless Professional Development....
Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Conclusion
Haibun Poem August 25th 158 Main is mobbed during breakfast. We’re seated at a booth next to their bakery display case. Feeling ignored. Somehow our waitress arrives with a hot coffee refill for...
Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Part V
Haibun Poem August 24th The best part of the watermelon walk? Eating seeded watermelons under the Adventure Rangers Meeting tent after it ends. excited girl’s young cupped hands hold A trembling frog Mid-afternoon,...
Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Part IV
Haibun August 23rd We ascend Stowe Pinnacle, eat lunch, snap photos and gaze at the valley below. I mind my steps descending the trail. It leveled off; I let my focus wonder just a...
Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Part III
Haibun August 22nd Sterling Pond, blue water rippling. Madonna rises behind it, a mother holding a bowl on her lap. All the short breaths and hard sweats on the steps of the Sterling...
Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Part II
Haibun Haiku Cannonball Contest His first jump sends pool water up a geyser’s height. His second jump nearly soaks the MC. His third jump barely ripples the water. He swims to me oblivious...
Smuggler’s Notch 2012 Travelogue, Part I
Haibun Poetry Aquatic Massage Hot water jets pummel my back. Steam rises off the water into the cool air. Madonna and Sterling tower above the Mountain View condos bordering the Courtside Pool. The...
Pre-Smuggs Insomnia
Haibun Poetry It’s a quarter to one in the morning. Cricket songs, and the ever-present drone of Thruway traffic, pass through our open bedroom windows. We’ll be on our way to Smuggler’s Notch...
A Tumultuous Zazen
Haibun Coldplay’s “the Scientist” plays. Dreamlike imagery arises: a woman handing out cuvards; a drop of Jesus’ blood. Always returning to “wind.” Breathing The bell gongs. I can’t stand up as the others rise...
