.

.
..
A Portrait of Mars

The last minute tickets, the mad four hour drive, my car stalling in the middle of Chicago traffic, the wait in the rain, the new friends, the burning in my screaming lungs, the lull only days after, the jazz riff in my heart as I find a photo of him looking right through me.

sleepless summer
windmills
churn the fog

.
*
.

Night in the Boonies

The clicking ceiling fan, the buzzing mosquito, the difference between wind and an animal passing through. I follow the explosions but never find the fireworks.

graffiti
under the bridge
Elvis lives

..
*

.
Living Alone

So focused on the dishes I forget to fill the dishwasher because I've scrubbed them all by hand.

night winds
nothing nothing
firefly

.
*
.

Blackberries

Every night I try a few, each from a different bush along the roadside. They're blackening but still sour. My mouth seizes up preemptively now.

cicada sunset
gunshots echo
through the corn

*.
.

All Roads Lead Back To Cherokee

The corn's as tall as I remember my father. All my childhood I dreamed of running away, following the telephone poles and Queen Anne's lace.

super moon
I release a toad
into the lilies

.

These tiny haibun capture moments of the summer after completing my Master's degree. I took special care to embrace my surroundings with fresh eyes as I moved back to my home state of Illinois, USA. Aside from "A Portrait of Mars," each haibun's prose is 25 words or less. This was inspired by Hint Fiction: An Anthology of Stories in 25 Words or Fewer  (W.W. Norton, 2010).

- Aubrie Cox

website: Yay Words