Haibun: 10 Year Challenge
Ten years ago, Baltimore County, 2,000 plus miles from the Sonoran Desert, the wind was cutting right to the bone. I remember when the cold wind would eat right through. Usually I’d be dressed for it, but this must not have been one of those times.
Each haiku was originally meant to serve as a snapshot. I remember sitting in a New Jersey call center, working the midnight shift wondering what it would be like to have written polaroids of my life. Not about me, but what I’ve observed. A picture of what I saw, not a selfie of me. I called them snapshots at the time.
In June of 2010, after reading some haiku on Twitter and Richard Wright's book of haiku in the public library, Haiku and Twitter made sense. But the idea of snapshots remained.
Here we are today, still winter. Still the observer, still taking snapshots. I may age, I may add my unique version of rhyme to it, but the observation, reflection, and writing process doesn’t change.
Four Peaks rise above
with distance, sort of. but still
here’s winter’s cold shove
