A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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June 2005, vol 1 no 1

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Helen Ruggieri, USA


We lived in rented places so there was nothing to do but learn to love it. Pine cones with a sprig of pine, scattered in a random pattern matching at the edges; roses unlike any living rose, in vertical rows separated by crimson ribbons. Waking up or falling asleep searching for the pattern, the mismatched pasting. When I had my own house, I rented a steamer, held the plate against the wall while steam penetrated ancient paste, layers and layers of redecorating schemes, scraping away with a wide bladed tool, owner after owner until down to the bare plaster, white, blank, where I make my own necessity.

the mirror says
not you, not you -
Snow White

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