A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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June 2008, vol 4 no 2

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Hortensia Anderson



He draws my bath in a tub hidden by hedges. I step into attar of rose and a mirror of far sky.

He sits on his wood swivel chair; next to him, a rickety table with pastel pencils
and papers. For an easel, he likes to draw in his lap.

Finally, he reveals his studies - nudes of me, adorned with rose. One by one, I feel
them draw us closer.

a slight breeze–
rose petals cling
to damp skin

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