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July 2014, vol 10, no 2

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Marjorie Buettner

What the Morning Brings


. . . the morning is pure with tree-wind and one mourning dove’s song filling those empty, long abandoned spaces within, while this old boat, tethered too long, awash in a golden light from a just risen sun, is untied, set adrift in whatever the morning brings . . .

floating lily pads . . .
the oars of the boat
set aside


Note: First published in Modern Haibun and Tanka Prose, June, 2009.




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