Haibun: A Walk to the Precipice

landscape photography of mountain

My steps grow shorter. A cloak of snow longer than my imagination can muster weighs upon weary bones. Polite silence; awaiting an interjection. A word. An utterance. A sign of resilience. Gasps do not count.

No longer a chill or a cold, instead, a paralysis that winds itself from my toes—tightening as it twists my empty stomach. Taking hold of my heart and weaving a noose around my collar.

I’m embarrassed to taint this pristine alabaster landscape, but I’ll request grace when I meet the mountain’s maker. The dazzling cinnamon sun waves goodbye one last time, and the mountain embraces me as the snowdrifts gather pace around this perfect place to rest.

Ceasing candlelight
A chrysalis dissolves—

Posted by

Grew up in the Essex countryside and currently resides in London. Passing through his 30s far too quickly. Likes: writing, design, the arts, and copious amounts of coffee. He is working on his first novel.

One thought on “Haibun: A Walk to the Precipice

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.