Remembering a time in my life when I still found people interesting and believed in the future. I think I’m happier now that I have no particular expectations.
finding my fly unzipped
The full moon is bright enough that for once, moths aren’t drawn to the light of my phone. Their wings brush against my pale legs as I sit out in the meadow, drinking homebrew and jotting down these notes with one finger.
the milkweed’s honey-
the video combines footage from our own little backyard celebration on Friday night with the footage and audio of the full moon on Saturday night, when I did indeed sit outside, as the haibun says, jotting down haiku and senryu as they popped into my head like a sad parody of an aging haijin. Rejects included:
moon on the meadow
the flight paths
of white moths
moon in conjunction
I blame Putin
That “Yee-hah!” during the credits is me. Just in case there’s any doubt whether my misanthropy extends to myself.