Haiga Archive

My friend and I explore the playground at the end of my street. The old equipment has suddenly become punctuated by strange bright contraptions. We take turns to climb inside a mounted tractor tyre while the other spins it around. Then swing in and out on a large, rotating kite. But we still end up on old favorites. We scramble over monkey bars, turn dizzy on the merry-go-round and scream down the highest slide…

white cockatoos
crown the pine trees….
summer nuts

Parking my car years later in front of the old playground.
I stare out across an ocean of neatly mown grass with one small island of equipment.

broken nest
the peanut package warns
it might contain nuts

Breathe in,
to the spring and my birth.
Breathe out,
to the summer of my youth.
Breathe in,
to the autumn of my life.
Breathe out,
to the winter of my death.

the sea breeze carries a taste of incense… temple offering

lost in twilight—
a fish hook glints
on the long-line

leaf litter…
he turns over
an old thong

car wreck
the plastic elvis
still smiling

I try to step
quietly into the emptiness
of our spare room
but the walls echo back—mocking
this blood when I prayed for none