This is a burning haibun that I wrote for my poetry class last year, but I felt like this poem was a fitting way to start a new school year, so I wanted to share it. A burning haibun is like a poetic prose piece that slowly gets erased or “burned” away. It consists of three parts, the first is just a paragraph of prose, then you black out some words and create a sort of black out poetry. And finally, you black out even more words and try to create a haiku, which is a Japanese style of poetry that goes 5 syllables, 7 syllables, and then 5 again.
This poem is dedicated to my first college roommate, Lizzy. I actually visited her in Maine, this summer and I miss her so much as I go into my senior year. I don’t know if I would have survived my first year in a four year college without her. This poem started off as a journal entry in the airport as I was waiting for my plane to arrive. The first semester had just ended. I was flying off to visit my Nana in Arizona and my roommate had flown off to start her new life after graduation in Maine.
I think I’ll let the poem do the rest of the talking.
7am in an Airport Boarding Area
I forgot the feeling of watching the sunrise at the airport. The slowly brightening sky illuminating the shiny surfaces of the plane. Yellow and orange chasing away the dark. Awake for two hours now, I sit on the floor, leaning my head on the cool glass, thoughts going over the details of my trip as I try to silence my anxious bundle of nerves. The airport is quiet; only slight murmurs of conversation glide through the silence. A world half asleep, barely awake, unaware of the possibilities that lie here. It’s here where things begin. The beginning of the day, the beginning of a trip, the beginning of a new life. But also, an ending. A goodbye to a good friend. A friend that God sets on your path because he knows that you are going to need one during that next step in your life. A friend that you don’t realize is going to change your life forever. A link that instantly snaps in, as if you’ve known them your whole life. So different, yet two souls connected. And who knows if this friendship can last? Will distance and life break the link? But here at 7am in an airport boarding area, anything is possible. Where will I go? When do I come back? Is there a coming back? That’s the beauty of an airport. A crossroad between here and there, a type of teleportation that while isn’t instantaneous, it’s still effective. A waiting with an expectancy of things to come. Distances can be bridged, if only you try hard enough. Sitting here, rays of sun reach towards a new day of possibilities, a tentative peace forms as I stare out the looming glass windows, preparing for our trip.
P.S.
I’m a published poet. I submitted a collection of poems to Aletheia Academic Journal, a journal in my honors society and I got them published. Please check them out if you have the time. Here’s the link.
