A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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September 2007, vol 3 no 3

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Katrina Shepherd



Hot afternoon sun beats through sealed sash windows. Lands on furniture filled with generations of initials. Smell of cedarwood pencils.

sun sears letters
carved in a wooden desktop
Will Mark Joe Fred Paul

Royal blue blazers over chair backs. We swelter. Our teacher hangs her navy jacket with the Red Cross badge neatly over her chair. Stands before us, short white hair, navy skirt, white blouse, book marked open at the right page. She reads to us through pearly spectacles. War poets. Sun grows stronger.

A couple of boys in the back row whisper. Slam! Do we know that these men gave their lives for us? Burning sun through glass. Do we know her fiancé gave his? The silence.

summer heat
red poppies in the playground
petals falling