As you get closer the trail declines from wheel ruts to track, path to pad paced between grasses, an alignment of sticks, leaves, animal ways then ends — you can’t see it yet.
Continue readingThe edge
haibun
Rewilding – a haibun
…yesterday on the radio, the 6.00 am news. Continue reading
Not the thing itself, only ideas
after Wallace Stevens
Snagged on the headland’s ironstone the storm drains the bay. The water’s surface is electric (with possibility), rain inscribes Pythagorean forms – trios, polygons, hedrons – onto the second-rate swell. Continue reading
early morning walk (& erased)
Evening at South Beach
All day the southerly blew hard on the face of the the sea until, finally, around evening the wind died. On the north side of the peninsula the water was luminous – green and pink waves lined up to pearl on the cooling sand. Continue reading
La voix des océans
The ore carrier is making a few knots out past the breakwater, moving like a slow cliff. Continue reading
The Greenland shark
The old mandarin’s in fruit again. Green nuggets mostly but some are already turning.
The girl is pegging towels into the pull and slap of the Southerly. The wind has dried her hair into a russet frizz. ‘Look at me,’ she says turning her head from side to side, laughing. Continue reading
Grey morning beach math haibun
Blond sand blows low and hard over ankles, driftwood and half-buried trash. These feathers, eddies and vortices have been perfectly modelled in our wind tunnels and supercomputers. Continue reading
Big rain – haibun
Rain like a bastard. Always big weather round here, more than our share. Don’t need radar animations or a weather app: just stick your head out the window, clouds all day escarpment gone and here in this last sunshine all it takes is… Continue reading
waiting
the grass has gone blonde (and died), the trees are hanging down and the black earth is cracking open. Continue reading
Peter Frankis writes 