January 6, 2025
 |  32 Comments

Early in the morning I woke, barefoot, dabbling like an artist in the dewy and crumbling sand, but later in the day the sun warms my feet. 

The conversation I hear stimulates the mind, suggests new topics and calls forth expression of my own thoughts. It is an amazing thing that leads one to understand candy dreams, and to begin to see clearly why the past has to die. 

Is it possible that shows, and toys were all primitive, and would be utterly despised by the young folk now – full of anticipation, I walk by a cheap hotel and observe the view from its windows.  

The light is dim but flickers against the ceiling, there are groceries on the counter, carrying stories, and a coffee machine. The dusty leaves of the trees rustling on the boulevard snap me out of my reverie. A lady, looking down, smiles. Maybe she knows. 

She will have to excuse my impertinence, I thought. And so, around these images, two beds, a half-eaten croissant and a pounding pulse, I figured I will have to go home.  

Morning’s breath whispers,  
fog drapes the world in shadows,  
lost dreams linger soft. 

 

 

 

Photo credits: Room for tourists by Edward Hopper, wikiart.org

Lisa hosts at dVerse and invites us to write a burning haibun. I was inspired
by the song “Two beds and a coffee machine,” by Savage Garden 🩷

An excerpt from the song “Two beds and a coffee machine”
by Savage Garden

But the mind is an amazing thing,
full of candy dreams and new toys
and another cheap hotel,
two beds and a coffee machine
but there are groceries to buy
and she knows she’ll have to go home.

Posted for Haibun Monday – Making Way @dVerse Poets Pub