Haibun Today

A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Editor
Volume 4, Number 4, December 2010

Jim Kacian
Winchester, Virginia, USA


No Place

It gets greener as we move closer to home.

It is balmy when the bus pulls in, though it is after sundown. We stow our duffels beneath the seats of the village bar, drink local beer, listen to Leonard Cohen on the PA. The leaves have been gilded during our absence, and the street lamps light up the undersides. Young girls, born after the songs were first recorded, sing along out of tune and rhythm, and with laughter. When the owner makes signs that he’d like to close, we walk the small town center, not yet ready to go home. We are still within the bubble of this trip, and are resisting its bursting.

returning home
the chessmen have maintained
my lost position

The next morning we arrive at the airport in plenty of time, then sit in a smoky bar without saying much. The airport is brightly lit, generic, not any place specific but a place between places; really, no place.

First published in Border Lands (Winchester, VA: Red Moon Press, 2007).

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