Full Circle Haibun

I was born in darkness, on a stormy February morning in Hawaii. My family drove through ten miles of flooded roads to get to the hospital, while I slouched towards Honolulu to be born. Despite the foreboding signs, and my brother catching a cold, the operation was a success.

                                                     Perhaps it’s unsurprising that thunderstorms— destructive, but vivifying—are my favorite kind of weather. In the wake of a monsoon, the desert resurrects with scent, color, and creatures. It makes me wonder about the weather on the day I die. Will it be the opposite of my birth day?

                         On clear, hot days, I feel death’s pale hand pressing down—crushing me into dust into dust. Without seeing the Sun, the cloudless sky shows no movement, no evidence of time passing. It is the monotonous blue of eternity where there are no clocks, and no one wears a watch or checks their iPhone.

              I imagine dying here in Arizona on a summer afternoon, where the overexposed sky will swallow my soul to send it homeward. Homeward to the night, to the thunder and lightning, to the blinding downpour, and my family driving through it to meet me.

A full life unfolds
then refolds, fringes meeting.
A well-worn blanket.

Nextdoor

found poem among Nextdoor posts

“Does anybody know about the new building at Priest and Guadalupe?”

“The sign on the fence said Cane’s.”

“It’s a Raising Canes.”

“I hope it’s a new laundromat. We need one.”

“How many posts do we need about that corner? The sign has been up for weeks! It’s a new Raising Cane’s chicken place. Jesus H Christ!”

“Andy, there’s no need for hostility.  #kindness”

“Somebody is off his meds.”

“There used to be a drug store next door to the new building.”

“So f--ing tired of this! You guys have the attention spans of pigeons. It’s the same with loud sounds or helicopters. You’re always like, hear those gunshots near rinky-dink park? Firecrackers. Antifa. I have a gun. Did you call the police? Something just went BOOM! Meth lab. Garbage truck. Teenagers. Why is a helicopter circling? Accident on the 101. Escaped prisoners. All Biden’s fault. Did you call the police?”

“I think it’s a Canes”

“I just heard an explosion at Priest and Guadalupe! There’s a helicopter over that new building. I think it’s a Raising Cane’s. I love Nextdoor. It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside like there’s a cactus stuck up my ass that died.”

“I hope you are okay. #kindness”

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