being four storeys up, i could clearly see that bird swoop down, snatching something from the brown brick wall of the building opposite. hawks are not uncommon, but this was eye catching, that very specific dive. i could not believe when soon after the sharp-eyed bird settled on the railing of my lounge balcony. i was four feet away and we eyed each other. i kept so still, i hardly breathed. i did not move a limb. i did not move my head, watching side ways and i even blinked in slow motion, realising immediately the specialness of what i might witness here. i saw the hawk's catch. a silver lizard clutched in an upright position, in one bird hand. it perched, completely immobile, looking and looking at me, head askew. then it started pecking at the lizard's  head (it seemed the eyes). this happened quickly (so as to have a way into the inside, i thought) and then it proceeded to eat the meaty soft parts from the small skull, in and out. it chewed bone too. it took its time. i remained entirely motionless all the while. when the head was gone, it started hollowing out the neck. when that was hollowed out a small distance, the dull brown bird tore strips of silver skin off in a circular motion and ate it. then it picked at the meaty cylinder some more, dining on the inside and again tearing narrow strips of skin off to even out the part where is was pecking from. the hawk took its time, eating methodically and entirely focusing on its food, checking on me every now and then, but it never stopped eating, swallowing. it continued shredding silver ribbons methodically and with complete focus. even the little arms and legs of its food disappeared this way. after forty minutes it was done, but that time had just flown as the hawk just flew away without any acknowledgement to me, as was fitting. i had a look at the less than bloody stain and tiny bone fragments (hardly any) left on the railings.

plummet plunging plumes

lustrous lizard slid up high -

natural digest

seasofme200714shapesshift

haibun: a definition -

haibun is a combination of prose and haiku poetry. a related form is 'tanka prose' – a combination of prose and tanka poetry. modern english-language haibun is evolving just as is modern english-language haiku. so, the following characteristics portray general patterns rather than hard and fast rules.

the original japanese haibun style created by the japanese poet-monk known as basho tended to focus on his wanderings through japan. contemporary haibun prose/poetry tends to focus more on everyday experiences—the journey of the human being living mostly in urban settings as well as ventures into natural settings. contemporary writers do also continue to write of travel experiences.

some have described haibun as a narrative of an epiphany, but many haibun are simply narratives of special moments in a person's life.

haibun prose is largely descriptive utilizing terse, poetic prose and abbreviated syntax to convey a stream of sensory impressions. for the most part, the style avoids philosophical comment. It is involved more with 'showing' rather than 'telling'. most often [but not necessarily] it is written in the present tense—as if the experience is unfolding now rather than yesterday or some time ago. some writers do create fantasy and dream sequences, and many beautiful pieces are focused on memories of past people and events.

the one or more haiku that accompany haibun prose are of two types. the first summarizes the feel of the prose, but without repeating words or phrases or images already contained in the prose. the haiku may be a juxtaposition—seemingly different yet connected. the second is a haiku that moves beyond the prose passage taking the reader yet one step further in the narrative. some argue that the haiku should be able to stand alone, understandable without the prose; others, that the haiku can be understood through the context provided in the prose.