à minuit

the boney moon, dragged by hibiscus over the red hills.
Your moth wings baby-rattling the drowning of the stars, the symmetry of our skeletons for asylum; the moon, she finds my darkness by the Katsura leaves. The atramental vagary of her lays in my hands.

psithurism, algedonic to the death strokes when she flutters, how she rises to meet me. I tire to the maniac violets, their ribs exposed in each idiot feather; oh, in their last breaths, does the moon ever glisten? Barefooted to broken glass, the moon cuts my hands as we dance;

she dies a bit more
leave-taking in winter’s breast strokes
drowning in grief.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a haibun that uses the word “moon.”




Categories: Poetry, Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

46 replies

  1. I love the literary richness of your prose, and the pathos of your haiku. Wonderfully done!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Wow I love the comparisons to the motions of swimming, it’s so powerful 😊💫

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I love how you start with the boney moon… such a different adjective to use for the moon… from then your imagery grows ever darker… (this is why lunacy is tied to the moon I think)

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you, Björn, so much. I find the moon to be fragile in its likeness. But, it’s still strong in the darkness; that’s the beauty of it, I think.

      That’s a good point about lunacy and the moon. By night, things can change and perhaps there is more honesty in the darkness as one delves into their own lunacies, especially as they can worsen.

      This is a theory of course, but I’m more or less referring to “The Tell-Tale Heart” as you got me pondering about the moon and lunacy connections.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. The nightsky, bright like the sun. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This is a cold and dark poetic tale of winter’s losses. It is desolately beautiful!

    Liked by 2 people

  6. A stunning haibun, Lucy, which is so fragile, with the boney moon, the ‘moth wings baby-rattling’, the symmetry of skeletons and the exposed ribs of maniac violets. Your moon is a dangerous one if it cuts hands when dancing. The haiku is so full of sadness and I love the phrase ‘leave-taking in winter’s breast strokes’.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. My goodness this is good! I especially love; “she finds my darkness by the Katsura leaves. The atramental vagary of her lays in my hands.” 💝

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Lucy another masterpiece! How I would love to send some time in your head and think your thoughts. Your use of langauge is so colorful and makes me read your work again and again. Loved the ‘bony moon’ and this line was wonderful ‘I tire to the maniac violets, their ribs exposed in each idiot feather;’ ☺️💕

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Such a deep and profound haibun that wraps itself around the grief of these times and jerks me into a deeper awareness of it all.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. deep mournful sadness with fragile but delicious wordplay …

    Liked by 1 person

  11. you know, i don’t think i’ve ever heard anyone write a boney moon. that’s my favorite.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. It is so good to read others poetry that take you to places you have never been before where words tease with such individuality. I was so beautiful to read.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Lucy, this is a captivating read! Big, and rich, and beautifully bittersweet. Wow!

    Liked by 1 person

  14. I love the impressionistic picture, skeletal bone-white and those violets again. The swimming imagery in the haiku is impressive too.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. I like especially the simplicity of the haiku. The strength of Japanese verse is how it strips images to essences with juxtapositions that surprise. (K)

    Liked by 1 person

  16. After I looked up the vocabulary……
    Rich, haunting and beautiful. I love “the moon cuts my hands as we dance”

    Liked by 1 person

  17. I love how you coax the reader into the dance of your thoughts, no matter how fraught with tension and foreboding from the first words, so chilling. The moths, the baby-rattling, the death strokes, the broken glass that cuts your hands as you inscribe the moon’s “atramental vagaries.” Rich and bears repeated readings 💛

    Liked by 1 person

  18. The moon and the poem’s narrator swimming together in grief. Full of rich, dark imagery. I particularly like the simplicity of the haiku, and the wordplay (intentional or not) of leave-taking, as winter takes hold.

    Liked by 1 person

  19. You write from a dark place, and your excellent verbosity mantles much of the sadness. I read your poems aloud. I did not look up the vocabulary,, but I like how many of the new words sounded and felt in my mouth.

    Liked by 1 person

  20. Your vocabulary is intoxicating.

    Liked by 1 person

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