Jim Chessing

Letter to Joy

Good Morning, Joy,
 
At least it’s morning on my side of the ocean, which makes it your evening, and another day of pain is wrapping up and you’re wondering if you will sleep tonight.

The tule fog is thick these days. The sound of car tires rolling by, conveying children to the elementary school half a block away, is amplified. In the mountains, the visibility of the same fog is measured in tens of feet, and the cold hanging in the tops of dead and living trees lurks in the shadows waiting to steal the barest of warmth from the first living thing to pass. Mourning doves and chickadees and towhees scratch the grass and kick aside the fallen persimmon leaves as they look for seed in the yard. In their quiet way, they remind me that the feeders are empty. I have had my coffee, over an hour of stretching, and when the streets are quiet, I’ll go on my power walk. If the weather shaman is to be believed, the sun will follow me home.

Godspeed, Joy, may you sleep tonight.

almost home
the fog hasn’t lifted
but the cold
has stopped
being cold

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About the Author

Jim Chessing writes haiku, tanka, and lately he has forayed into haibun and tanka prose. He won first prize in the Tanka Society of America (TSA) International Tanka Contest and participates in the TSA Mentorship Program. His first tanka collection, A Volcano, A Peony, was published in 2024. A retired psychologist, he lives with his wife in San Ramon, California.   

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