Exposure

I have this recurring fantasy. I travel to northern Ontario and hire a bush pilot who flies me to the Great Slave Lake. It is a one way trip. I carry my trusty Ronco Survival Knife that I bought for $19.95 in a weak moment a few years ago after watching one of those late night infomercials. The top of the large serrated hunting knife is a compass, which screws off to reveal fish hooks, a bit of line, some matches, a folded up saw. I take one eighth of my ancestors with me, the Cherokee relations. I will survive the bitter cold and the bears and wolves. I will fish, find wild berries and rob honey trees. Lichen broths are supposed to be nutritious, even tasty, I understand.

filling the feeders
I watch for
the Northern Flicker

(Published Simply Haiku - Spring 2009)

Copyright 2009 -2010, Thomas Martin, all rights reserved.

Haiga - Ecola Head (Published:  Contemporary Haibun - Volume 10)

Blackberry Picking

I see grandmother's bonnet moving above the bramble. My mother tells me not to keep eating berries. My little pail fills so slowly.

mouth drips purple juice
clothes torn, skin bleeding, itching
spill berries again


(Published Contemporary Haibun: Volume 10)

august evening
grandfather whittles
the light away

Published September, 2009, The Heron's Nest

birdwatchers

scrambling off the bus

wild turkeys

Honorable Mention

Moonset Senryu Contest

Moonset Spring/Summer 2009

the moon

the moon

the firs touch

Third Place Haiku Contest

Moonset Spring/Summer 2009

pussywillow

pussy willow

I wear my mother's smile

looking for a vase

Third Place

2008 Kusamakura Haiku Competition

Haibun - Getting Rid of the Festiva

I tell you no one wanted that car. We kept it parked in the driveway for years while we made payments on Saturns and bought Subarus and Hondas and tried to ignore it. Meanwhile, I would drive it once a week to Trader Joe's or the Beaverton Library.

driver's door opens
chains pulled across pipes
runs great, good mileage

I tried to donate it (only had about 102,000 miles). I called all the charities that take old cars (United Way, Cancer Research, even Kars4Kids) but upon hearing it was a 1989 Ford Festiva with a key jammed in the ignition refused to consider it.

I finally had to call a junk dealer who offered us a $100, and who came with a big smile and a ruddy, little Pomeranian
that waited obediently to one side while he hoisted the car up on his wrecker.

The dog yapped all the while but seemed happy. She made me smile, and my heart bubbled a little.

just as Samantha
began licking my fingers
five 20's changed hands



Published in Contemporary Haibun Online

Haibun - Weather

I last saw you on Midsummer Commons
It was rainy bright and you turned away.
We wanted words of prophets,
even weathermen.

the wind's rough coldness
gray bark, the brown fallen leaves
the rain still falling



Published in Contemporary Haibun Online