Ruth Holzer: Haibun
Who's this tortoise peering at me from the bathroom mirror? Heavy eyelids, a beaked nose, skin pouched along the jaws. Fading colors of the maples burn brighter against a gray drizzle. After Thanksgiving the streets are silent. We keep busy in separate rooms until dusk, when he appears in my doorway, offering a card.
From frosted crystal we toast another year of life. I blow out pink candles on a cinnamon bun. An instrument of silk and paulownia wood begins its ancient solo.
Ruth Holzer's haiku/haibun have appeared in Frogpond, Modern Haiku, Acorn, Mayfly, Presence, bottle rockets and Hummingbird, among others. Longer works have appeared in various journals including Connecticut River Review, Sow's Ear, Mobius and The Formalist. She works as a translator.
2003/2004 Simply Haiku