
On the scales of life, her burden was a few pounds short, yet ten times more piercing.
She had less than. I had more. Beyond the grasp of gravity, we each had one lifespan.
a slice of her life
shaved from time
more whittled than mine
In a linear world, she drew the short straw. She had less than. I had more. Obeying the law of gravity, we each clung to one life. But lacking that force, one cannot be weighed against the other.
How does one compare two obsidian rocks, their black facets from the same volcano. How does one compare two sisters' lives?
Just this--
I held my breath longer.


Comments: 29
Heft is comparable but not essential to ...breath
What a poignant story. And an excellent example of negative space.
But I took it in stride and didn't let my insecurities get the best of me. Then when clever Jan posted her negative space piece, I felt empowered to do the same.
You had doubts? Here I am, not even knowing what a halibun "is" and I felt this right through my soul. Wow.
Marilyn
The pair of obsidian rocks really sets the mood, causing me to ponder all that is unknown in the inequalities of life and death. Thank you for posting to The Surreal Circus. You are now featured.
I especially felt the power of your poem this week, Susan. It is beautifully crafted.
oh, that last line.
you put me in the mind of Amy Tan.
But what does it mean that you held your breath longer?
What does that mean to you?
I know one thing, I am still breathing so it's a good thing I've held onto it.
but with that survival comes responsibiity
Your words wrap layers of commitment to those I've chosen to honor with passion, though I also grow lean on occasion, from the effort. Quite hungry enough to know my own skeleton through the process.
Thanks for the beautiful sustenance and craft!
A haibun is a blend of prose and haiku. Check out this link. You'll find all the details you need plus it has a sizzling haibun for an example.