The honeymoon period was before the marriage. Only one fight, and that was when she told him when to buy a suit for the wedding. You never tell a man when to buy a suit. So many stars have to align, signs have to appear unbidden, and often someone has to die first. But soon after the wedding, man and wife both felt the need to be right, and this went on for a couple of years before the love almost bled out. So one day they agreed (though no one can agree on whose idea it was) to take turns being right, right for the day. One day at a time. No second-guessing. No contradicting. If left was the way she wanted him to turn, even if he knew it was the wrong direction, he turned. And never an I-told-you-so was uttered. If he said Babe was the greatest movie ever made, then at least for that day it was. This went on for about a year and a half and they fell in love again. Gradually they stopped the practice of “right for the day” because they realized they were usually wrong.
the lights
come on along the pier
another wave...
is a regular contributor to haiku and tanka journals in the US, Europe, and
Australia, whose work has been widely anthologized. His works in fiction,
nonfiction, and poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in numerous international
journals, including Flash, Rattle, Modern Haiku, KYSO Flash, The Prose-Poem
Project, The Boston Literary Magazine, Haibun Today, and Contemporary
Haibun Online (where he edits content).
Lucky’s chapbook of haibun, tanka prose, and prose poems, entitled
Ethiopian Time (Red Bird Chapbooks, 2014), was an honorable mention
in the Touchstone Book Awards. He now lives and works in Saudi Arabia.
