[stylist] Sharing a tankabun similar to a haibun

[Robert Leslie Newman]

Myrna 
I like this form! Not sure I'm going to try and write one!! The starting
poetry part is short and is easy to --- get. And the second part, the pros
explains it in clear English; an easy read for me. 

(I'll have to see the rules and decide if I can get that first part.)

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of KajunCutie926 at aol.com
Sent: Sunday, April 22, 2012 10:15 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Sharing a tankabun similar to a haibun

At our board meeting tonight I said I would share a  tankabun, a poetry form
developed by myself and a writer friend and collaborator  on one of my
books, E. W. Richardson.  We named it so because it is  fashioned after the
haibun, which is  a mix of haiku and prose.  In  this version, a tanka is
used followed by the prose section which is the  'bun'.  Tomorrow I will go
in search of the specific instructions we had  written up for it and send it
to you... but for now here is a tankabun written  to honor my father and the

first incident that truly let me see that he  understood my blindness.   I
have 
attached it as well as put it in the  body of the email. If you have trouble
viewing the attachment I can send using  an older version of Word.
Myrna
 
 
Icicles
Just  one icicle
Laid across her tiny hand
Taught her about life
Her daddy  placing it there
Let her understand his love

He had been watching. Her  little face was serious, eyes squinting, looking
out the window and trying to  see the icicle things. Taking her small hand
in his, he brought her outdoors,  broke an icicle hanging from the eaves,
and placed it across her palm. He  remained silent but she knew he watched
her still. It was cold, this icicle, and  wet, as it melted within her
hand's warmth. 'Do you see it now, mon petite?' he  asked after a moment.
She nodded, awestruck, realizing for the first time that  Daddy did
understand her need to see. "It's dying, Daddy," she said as  she sadly held
out her nearly empty hand. "No, mon petite, icicles do not die," Daddy  said
as he held her icy hand.  "They just need to change clothes  sometimes and
this one is saying 'thank you' for undressing it."  She  smiled at him and
for both it was enough. 
C  mdbadgerow  2008