A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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September 2009, vol 5 no 3

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Neal Whitman


Hold That Line

My wife, Elaine, plays the Native American flute. She is a hospice volunteer and, when called the other day to play at a vigil for a woman near her end, I drove because Elaine had already put in a full day and was tired. She has a collection of a dozen flutes, but she brings a special one commissioned for hospice work: long so it plays low notes, but made of cedar so still light to hold. Low and Light. Made with faith that even a comatose patient is aware of Respect and Reverence. I wait patiently.

Rules here are few ––
“Please keep the outside door closed.”
Hospice Garden Lounge


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