Peg Cherrin-Myers
lost & found
at night i look up
and swallow them all
and wait
in my dream i nurse
the baby i never
swaddle
playfully pulls
off
and
on my nipple
kneading me with tiny
sugar ray fists
he loves me he loves me
at dawn i float along
the corridor in a gown
filling every room
with light
About the Author
Peg Cherrin-Myers lives in Southeast Michigan. They are a stay-at-home poet who spreads peanut butter on white bread, folds it in half, and dips it into a hot bowl of chili. They wear rainbow Tevas and drive a pickup. Their work has appeared in Frogpond, Stanchion Zine, Kingfisher Journal, Periodicities, and many others. Find them on X (formerly Twitter): @pegcherrinmyers.
Brilliant and beautiful! I love how it can be read in multiple ways, culminating in that powerful haiku at the end. I keep reading and rereading it (the sign of a good haibun in my book).
A wonderful piece, Peg. Wonderful!
I love this, Peg! A wonderful haibun!
good show
This is just to say how much I love this haibun and, particularly, the use of blackout to powerful effect! I will definitely show this to my students. (We regularly do “blackout” exercises with various texts. Here, the haiku feels like it emerges from the mysterious place where language acts as interface between conscious and unconscious realms. (Wondering if you have read Justin Torres, “Blackouts: A Novel”, which is haunting and brilliant, as your haibun is…
Thanks!