I will weave walls out of grey smoke
and bright mirrored neon
fallen shattered in puddles,
and all the windows
will look out over the lights
that net the city. We will look down
from our high place
and drink the nightclub rhythm
from glasses that reflect
shop window glitter. Night will curl
in the corner like a stray cat,
and the ceiling will be saffroned
Dawn will come calling
before we sleep, and our
lullaby will be the clank
of delivery vans, and the footsteps
of early risers.
Another one for dVerse. I’m living in the country, so of course I dream of the city.
Winter’s cold fingers are almost touching the city, and the guy who sleeps under the flyover is carrying an extra blanket. I try not to look as I walk past, pulling my coat around me. As the sun sets, streetlights glow brighter than stars, shop windows shine clearer than the moon. Each puddle holds a shard of city, a kaleidoscope of lights shine at my feet. There’s a couple already drinking outside a bar – I watch him light her cigarette, see how they laugh together, but I don’t stop. My feet beat in the commuter’s rhythm now. I’m in a hurry, stopping at the convenience store for bread and milk, a pizza and a bottle of wine. I want to get home, out of the wind that’s rolling down the street, and the rain that’s just starting. It’s been a long day, but the city will be up all night, drinking and dancing and carrying on without me.
Autumn’s open hand
Spills chilly moonlight, cold stars
Dance through the puddles.
This is a slightly less traditional haibun than usual, because Bjorn at dVerse is a bit of rebel…He’s asked for something that captures the city, in all its sleazy, neon glory. If you head over there you can knock back a Cosmopolitan and try a haibun out for yourself.