Bob Lucky
Lisbon and Thereabouts, a Haibun
with haiku by Fernando Pessoa
Rush hour. Cars and buses constellate at the intersection. The flicker and shimmer of tail lights in the dusk. The descendants of farmers swill beer and try to forget the dreams of their fathers.
The orchard slopes, the road Is seen from where it ends. Hopes are too much to have.
School’s out. Mothers and children, nannies and their charges, fill the sidewalk like a river in spate. Umbrellas and rolls of Christmas wrapping tucked beneath arms. A girl stops to sprinkle coins in an old woman’s can.
The far curve of the waters. Through trees. Peace there, but here Only peace over there.
Corner café. Dog walkers taking a break. An old man asks for more milk in his coffee. The waiter talks slowly to the woman who no longer hears but reads lips. The couple who meet here every afternoon have the same argument they will have the rest of their lives.
No stranger passes here. The moon is still above The surf & the road goes far.
Note: For Fernando Pessoa’s haiku in English and Portuguese, see “Twenty-one Haikus by Fernando Pessoa” by Patricio Ferrari and Carlos Pittella-Leite. Pessoa Plural: 9, Spring 2016.
About the Author
Bob Lucky is the author most recently of My Thology: Not Always True But Always Truth (Cyberwit, 2019) and the chapbook Conversation Starters in a Language No One Speaks (SurVision Books, 2018), which was a winner of the James Tate Poetry Prize in 2018. Lucky lives in Portugal, where he is working his way through the regional cheeses and wines.