Poetic Hum


Over at the poets’ pub, dVerse, Gina asks, “What is the poetic hum in your life? What hums in the background of your life that inspires you as you unconsciously listen while you work and live? Is the drone always there or do you have to cultivate the inspiration?” The prompt led me to a tanka, then on to haibun. Go to the pub for servings of Tuesday Poetics.


What are the colors of white noises, of slick syncopations, benign beatings? Some hum in sensible suits of spreadsheet tweed or accountant gray. Some background noise is the high-pitched whine of machinery, of moving parts dulled only by repetition and wear; some the slow rumble of the millstone grinding its grains, blind to its grist. Some pulse a slippery red, the color of Dr. Williams’ wheelbarrow that waited for him at the end of daily practice. Sylvia’s copper kettles drummed a spiraled blackness, marching to the fore, crescendo in the kitchen. The color of the hole in the roof changes with the weather; listen to the sun trickling in.


Plodding hushed by snow

falling through wintry slumber

dreams a whirr of wings

suddenly spring birds alight

colors awaken

songs stir.

35 thoughts on “Poetic Hum

  1. you did wonderful on the prompt! perfectly said, and love how you incorporated some famous poets and their inspirational tools in your haibun. the tanka suited this so well, brief and concise. “The color of the hole in the roof changes with the weather; listen to the sun trickling in.” i really like this line – tells me to not take things for granted and always know to be sensitive to changes. thank you for joining in with this creative piece, you have a beautiful hum!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I can relate to the prose side – color of that white noise and that sounds of repetition and wear. Love the contrast of the tanka, that awaiting of spring birds and stirring of songs. The duality of your life is spot on.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you. The tanka came first but I got more on my way to the keyboard. In both the prose and the tanka I wanted to show the rising from dark to light. Spring buds only happen because of winter dormancy. Sometimes the workday is a daily winter.


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