December 21, 2012


Gift of Light






Words and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina



December 7, 2012


Sunset Riches


Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Blue Ridge Mountains, Western North Carolina


World Haiku Association, Nov 2012


November 2, 2012


Wind Picks a Leaf



Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Nashville, Tennessee


World Haiku Association, Oct 2012


October 12, 2012


Morning's Stage


Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


World Haiku Association, Sep 2012


September 29, 2012


Wind and Sea

The old life-saving station had guarded the coastline rescuing those who failed to heed the warnings of the lights. Townspeople would walk the beach scavenging the shoreline to supplement their lives with pieces of shipwrecks scattered by wind and sea.

Today the old life-saving station is a tourist attraction and along the beach, there are sunbathers and surfers – vacationers seeking the pleasures of wind and sea.

time to sit a spell
in the beauty of the day
being old and wise


— Dan Hardison


Postcard: Provincetown, Massachusetts
(Unused - undivided back era, early 1900's)


Haibun, Sketchbook - Sep/Oct 2011


September 14, 2012


Low Tide


Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina


Cinquain, Sketchbook - Jul/Aug 2011


August 24, 2012


Grief


Butterfly Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


Cinquain, Sketchbook - Jan/Feb 2012


August 10, 2012


Winter in July


It was during the last game of the fall soccer season that we met a fourteen-year-old girl named Sarah watching her friends play. Talking with Sarah off and on, we learned that she did not play sports – a bit clumsy, she loved music and was taking piano lessons, and her family was going to Disney World in a couple of weeks. She was pretty and bright, but also bubbly and polite.

sparkling in the light
like gems of russet and gold . . .
the frost covered leaves

While walking to the parking lot after the game, we learned that Sarah had an inoperable brain tumor. She had perhaps six-months to live. After that day, we occasionally heard updates on Sarah as her health declined. On July 2, Sarah died. I only met her the one time, yet the sorrow was great.

the last dream
interrupted on waking . . .
clouds drifting

In a poem by George W. Jones, he speaks of how our lives mirror the seasons. “Spring time is birth time, / the time of quickening / summer is the time of growth, / of fullness / autumn sees maturity, / ripeness, and passing / and winter is death.” His focus is on those of “venerable age” who have reached their winter years. So, what of those whose winter comes too soon?

day fades to darkness
through a rainbow of colors . . .
a prayer without words


— Dan Hardison


Photo by Dan Hardison
Wilmington, North Carolina



Haibun, Contemporary Haibun Online - July 2012, vol 8 no 2


July 29, 2012


Water Standing Still


Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Nashville, Tennessee


Sketchbook - Jul/Aug 2011


July 13, 2012


Calling Forth the Day


Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee


Sketchbook - Jul/Aug 2011


June 29, 2012


Simple Things


She was 13 at the time – the daughter of friends. She was accompanying us on an excursion to the mountains from our coastal community. This was her first trip to the mountains and as we made the twisty climb in elevation, so did her excitement. As we passed along the side of a cascading stream filled with boulders, she asked if we could stop.

sunlight and ripples
playing across the water . . .
my thoughts wandering

Walking to the water’s edge, my wife and I began stepping from rock to rock working our way out into the stream. We suddenly heard our young companion shout, “Wait!” As we turned towards her she said, “I don’t know how to do that?” I responded, “Do what?” and she replied, “Walk out there on the rocks.” What had seemed a simple and familiar task for us – having been raised in an area much like this – it was unfamiliar to this young girl.

Going back, I took her hand and guided her across the rocks – showing her how to step cautiously. Later, I taught her how to skip stones. Simple things really, but this was a chance for someone to experience something new. A simple transfer of knowledge between two individuals.

sun drenched summer days
and time spent in friendship . . .
sparkling sea of light


— Dan Hardison


Photo by Dan Hardison
Blue Ridge Mountains, North Carolina



Haibun, Contemporary Haibun Online - April 2012, vol 8 no 1


June 16, 2012


Sunlight


Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Cookeville, Tennessee


Cinquain, Sketchbook - Mar/Apr 2011


June 1, 2012


Wishes and Dreams


Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


World Haiku Association, May 2012


May 18, 2012


Baxter


My wife’s best friend had been battling cancer for several years when Baxter came into her life. She wanted a dog as a companion and Baxter was a gentle, quiet, loving dog that was playful, but also content just to be by your side and petted.

When her cancer took a turn for the worse and she became weaker, my wife would walk Baxter during her daily visits with her friend. Whenever her friend had to be in the hospital, Baxter would stay with us. At last, the doctor said there was nothing more he could do. During a visit with my wife, her friend said she could no longer care for Baxter and asked if we would keep him and give him a home.

dark clouds rolling in
and distant thunder rumbling . . .
I should have noticed

Three weeks after Baxter came to stay, my wife’s father unexpectedly entered the hospital. We immediately left for the ten-hour drive with Baxter accompanying us. Over the next two weeks, we stayed in motels and the home of family. Everywhere we went, Baxter went – never a problem, always on good behavior, taking it all in stride. But, my wife’s father passed away – cancer.

After returning home, we found that my wife’s friend was now bedridden. They were able to spend one last good visit together filled with friendly conversation as they once had enjoyed. A few days later, she too was gone. Baxter is still with us and it is here he will stay.

time to sit awhile,
to breathe the fresh-scented air,
to daydream, to doze,
and perhaps a quiet walk
at this home away from home


— Dan Hardison


Photo by Dan Hardison
Wilmington, North Carolina



Haibun, Contemporary Haibun Online - April 2012, vol 8 no 1


May 11, 2012


Dreams


Cinquain and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


Cinquain, Sketchbook - Jul/Aug 2011


May 4, 2012


Come Rain or Shine


Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


World Haiku Association, April 2012


April 20, 2012


The Painting




Your mother never liked the painting – too serious and non-smiling. You were more cheerful, more open and giving. I think of you each day and not because of the reminder on the wall, but because I wonder what you might have done or said. Now, your gaze is cast across the room forever keeping watch.

a gray day today
with no sunrise or sunset
just endless twilight


— Dan Hardison


Portrait of Sammy Hardison
By Philip Perkins
oil on canvas, 1967



Haibun, South by Southeast - 2011, Vol 18, No 3

April 6, 2012


Church of Trees




Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


World Haiku Association, March 2012

March 10, 2012


Winds of Winter




Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Bledsoe County, East Tennessee


World Haiku Association, February 2012

February 17, 2012


The River




Cinquin and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Bledsoe County, East Tennessee

February 11, 2012


World in Changes




Cinquin and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


Cinquain, Sketchbook - Jan/Feb 2011

February 3, 2012


All That Glitters




Haiku and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


World Haiku Association, January 2012

January 20, 2012


Flowers



The lily was the first to die, as rose petals fell one by one. The greenery turned to brown, as daisies bowed their heads. Birthday, anniversary, or in sorrow – the occasion does not matter. Thoughts of their sender will linger . . . long after the flowers are gone.

the soft glow of light
as nighttime begins to pass
steady and serene

— Dan Hardison


Photo by Dan Hardison
Wilmington, North Carolina



Haibun, Sketchbook - Sep/Oct 2011

January 6, 2012


Goodbye




Cinquin and image by Dan Hardison
Photo: Wilmington, North Carolina


Cinquain, Sketchbook - Mar/Apr 2011