Erased Haibun for a winter hedge

In the green gloom of mizzle, the red of spindle berries flashes a feast—hips, haws and dainty fairy lights dance enticing the birds, butcher’s broom berries and bryony bright, but not for you or I.

Berries light the hedge

glow warm as last year’s sundrops

summer memories.

In the gloom

red flashes

dainty birds

bright sundrops.

Haibun erased for autumn rain




In this house, the only sound is the click of the keyboard and the hum of the flames. Cats, dog doze, thoughts drift into the dark. Night presses on windows with heavy hands, and I see no stars; clouds, rain-swollen, spread across the sky. Tomorrow will be the same, green, damp light and sodden leaves. Autumn clings.

from water we came

we wade in autumn rain

stream fills with brown leaves


The sound of thoughts,

night with no stars,

the sky, the same green light—water.

We wade in brown leaves

See me

A haibun for the OctPoWriMo prompt, followed by its erasure.


I stand in the meadow feet in the sun, damp grass and dormant spring flowers, and I listen. Sun on face, listening to birdsong, the quick furtive rustle in the dry brown leaves of the hornbeams in the hedge, I stand. All this furtive fluttering, tender singing is me, and each brutal lash leaves a raw welt on my skin.

Thunder cracks

something dies in silence

feather drifts earthwards.



spring flowers


rustle in the hedge

this is me

a raw silence