Missing Land, a haibun

I found myself digging my hand into the flower box outside the restaurant, to roll the moist soil between my fingers, feel it imbed under my nails, inhale the fragrance, close my eyes to relive another time and place — he was old before I knew him, on one knee breaking apart a clump of soil with his callused, weathered hands, knowing by the texture and smell whether it was time to plant — when dirt and grass were underfoot, few of the roads were paved and the smell of steel and filth was unknown.

covered by concrete,
a future only found where
the earth remembers

.

.

This week Margo asked for a piece about “the land”. She was a bit more descriptive, but that is why there is a link, so you can go read what she has to say. 🙂

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5 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

5 responses to “Missing Land, a haibun

  1. Mark, this brought tears. I know that mankind has to live somewhere, but grieve for what we have done to this precious Earth.

    • I hope we have learned some lessons. Where I am there are thousands of square miles of undeveloped land in a growing area. Perhaps future development will be done with a little better perspective and care.

  2. I am liking haibuns more and more. They allow such flexibility. I like the way you link past present and future, all through the land. Pretty clever for midnight.

  3. I love the beauty in your words.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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