I’m deeply honored to have this haibun published in the latest issue of Star 82 Review:

Golden Hour

She sits in her chair by the window, a witness to the goings on of the neighborhood.

As the last squirrels scamper up the old oak, as a pair of kids leave their friend’s house and begin biking home, the birds still sing. They sing from the branches, the sky, the telephone lines.

She doesn’t remember my name or her own, but she names the birds by song. She listens to them until the light goes out. She always listens until the light goes out.

music box fading
the last leaves
pirouette