Creek Haibun
The creek’s waters flow so quickly that I make little headway in my attempt to cross. A water moccasin slips by, and my left boot takes on water. This is not real, I say. We’ve had no rain and I would not be so foolish as to do this. Asleep? Perhaps, but I’ve passed the halfway point and have no choice but to move forward. I slip and nearly pitch headfirst into the dark current. Lightning stitches the sky.
dreaming, the snake
swims against floodwaters
oh, what have I lost?
Very much like the conjunction of prose and poetry here – the difference, perhaps, between and pan shot and a close-up?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think so, Dave. Much like that.
LikeLiked by 1 person