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

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John W. Sexton, UK


in the neglected orchard fallen apples rot into the ground, brown squatting things like a strange congress of toads, putrid in the lessening light.

I become suddenly aware of a second orchard, for the apple trees cast apple trees of shadow. We stand together in the clash between the two orchards and I turn to look into your face. The green of your eyes is the green of light through leaves, and I begin to forget, to forget all corruptible things.

A blackbird moves into the dark innards of the hedgerow. His bright beak blackens in shadow. Later you will offer me this same gift.

A cat of shadow, enormous in the lowering sunlight, walks along the wooden fence, a real cat by her side. Later, later, I will learn to follow where they go.

your untied hair
covers my face



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