A clearing. And there it is. Pond-like but rock rather than water...until people appearing near the edge break the illusion and it becomes a wall of boulders barely up to their knees. Concentric barriers and paths.
A group of kids bursts into the space. They climb, balance, jump, or sprint around the pathway. Come on. You’ll lose. A boy goes all out, using a stiff restraining arm to overtake his older sister. I am the king of the maze!
The labyrinth insists on interaction. No nautilus shell, no bobbin’s rapid climbing and descending thread, it teases, tantalizes. I’m taken almost to the goal, then thrown back out towards its edge. Travel clockwise, anti-clockwise. Repeat, repeat.
Once I have reached the heart, the whole course lies before me in reverse. Seven hundred steps. Three score and ten.
her flaring skirt...
oh to be Mirka Mora
when I grow up
lives in Frankston, Australia. Her haibun, a patchwork of responses to her local environment, have appeared in Presence, Bloo Outlier, Drifting Sands, Failed Haiku, and World Haiku Review, with more forthcoming in Modern Haiku and Contemporary Haibun Online. Her translations of the haiku of Sugita Hisajo were published by Red Moon Press in August, 2021.