My appreciation to guest editor Allyson Whipple for curating the fantastic issue 97 and including my haibun, “Progress.”
The cat chatters in the window, and I read while crows
destroy the front lawn. They start in a corner and dig like
clam hunters. Carefully. Quietly. Not a single caw between
them. The next day, more crows join the feast. The cat and I
do nothing. Our neighbors use tinfoil scarecrows and sprays.
Only a small portion of grass remains now. The rest of the
yard is tilled like a farmer’s field. I’ll try to grow grass again
next year.
crop dusters
another childhood friend
has cancer