City house – for dVerse.

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

by streetlamps.

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. 

City Haibun – for dVerse

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.