koi sidebar

A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & Owner
Ray Rasmussen, General Editor

Volume 11, Number 3, September 2017

Jonathan McKeown
Sydney, New South Wales, Australia

Wishing Tree

Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together…
                                                                                                            Genesis 3: 7

I only wanted her to be the first to know, but my announcement detonated something …

now I am become Death
the destroyer of worlds

“I always knew you and Mum wouldn’t get back together,” she said between convulsive sobs, “but now you definitely won’t”…

I’m sitting on the same rock shelf, in the same little cove, looking out toward the same Pacific horizon… but nothing was the same after that… she was not the same…

When they carried out the first hydrogen bomb test in the Pacific, the islanders witnessed what must have looked like a gigantic tree growing up miraculously, forty-something kilometres into the sky, its branches spreading and spreading…

“At school each week we do a thing called Smiling Mind—it’s a meditation app. One of them is called The Wishing Tree. I hope you aren’t mad at me for this,” she said (—as if that were a real possibility) “but whenever we do the wishing tree meditation I always wish you and Mum will get back together.”

fallen nest
. . .
all that was woven into this

Note: The haiku is a version of the haiku "fallen nest,” previously published in Modern Haiku 45:1, 2014.



| contents page | next haibun |

koi sidebar r