Home » cho 16:1 | April 2020 » Haibun: Itch

Marilyn Ashbaugh

Itch

The oxford cloth of her long-sleeved shirt sticks to her flesh. A rivulet flows from her forehead down the delicate bridge of her nose, gathers there until a bead of sweat drips from its tip. Pulling poison ivy from sycamores and ash, she lifts a gloved hand and reflexively wipes her face.

whistles in the dark
we slip out bedroom windows
for a midnight swim

About the Author

Marilyn Ashbaugh is a poet, nature photographer, and organic gardener.  She is widely published in journals and anthologies featuring Japanese short-form poetry. 

8 thoughts on “Haibun: Itch”

  1. Very timely. These days we are reminded to keep our hands from our faces, but as this beautifully written haibun points out, it is easy to be undone by a reflexive act.

    Reply
    • Dear Tom,

      Thank you for reading and commenting. Now that I have a mask as well as gloves, perhaps I will avoid the ugly aftermath of poison ivy’s touch.

      Reply
  2. Being susceptible to the negative effects of this plant’s oils, I found myself cringing as she wiped her face! A good write, Marilyn.

    Reply

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