poetry

break ups / River Nocturne / Haiku by Connor Hubeny

break ups

 

the next time

you feel

like counting worms

on your own time,

remember that

 

the dolomites

exist,

and the golden gate

bridge was build

 

by men.

 

‘cause the way

I see it,

life’s better worth

living

on the high side

of rhododendrons.

 

River Nocturne

 

We ran through the woods,

past the phlox and forsythia,

to the edge of lingering water.

The river ran black and bottomless

in the crystalline night.

The smell of azalea blossoms

drugged us, my wife and I,

and the south wind filled our shirts

with the warm air of summer.

I saw her for the first time

again, her figured traced by starlight.

She looked at me as if I were

a dream, in a film of rising fog.

Thunder shook the trees filled with dark,

and rain fell evenly on our shoulders,

then down our backs. The cloudbursts

decanted us. United, we dipped

beneath the steam. We told ourselves,

later on, that we would do anything

to come back here someday.

To be so happy again.

 

Haiku

 

What’s better than a meal

so good that no one talks.

You sit, and you eat.

 

Connor Hubeny is a graduating senior at Marymount Manhattan College where he studies Communication Arts. He is an editor of his school's literary magazine, The Marymount Review, and a self-described cinephile.