Morning light spills across the kitchen table, too bright for secrets. I pour coffee and begin again: the right way to fold a fitted sheet, why bitterness lingers longer than sweetness in the mouth, how regret is just pattern recognition arriving late. My listener nods, eyes polite, already drifting toward the window where a single sparrow balances on the feeder, seed husks falling like discarded lessons.
I press on. There are rules, after all. Principles. Maps drawn by people who walked the path before us and kindly left signposts. I point. I underline. I arrange the evidence in neat rows. The listener sips and smiles the small, patient smile one reserves for wind that insists on rearranging hair.
Outside, the sparrow flits off, carrying no footnotes.
old teacher’s voice
still lecturing the bare branch —
snow listens, then falls
-
Author:
Matthew R. Callies (
Offline) - Published: March 7th, 2026 00:51
- Comment from author about the poem: I've been accepting challenges over the last few days. This piece is for Doggerel Dave. The exact wording of his challenge was: "Category 'didactic': "Good Prose First, Then Poetry"". I decided to write something about being didactic in the form of a haibun - a Japanese style of literature that combines prose and haiku. This was one of the more difficult challenges yet. I'm still accepting challenges. Leave a challenge in the comments of any poem in my "Poetic Challenges" collection or DM a challenge.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange, Efrain Cajar
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Comments4
Very nice I can see the blend here and it is quite enjoyable Matthew and beckons the reader to listen and interpret images and metaphor that seem to come in flashes. A fave
Excellent, rich and bold
Thanks Mathew - you responded to my request handsomely. Words have syntax, but other realms, such as the natural world do not necessarily conform. Message correctly received?
Yep
Ta
Matthew, this is a clever and beautifully handled response to Dave’s didactic challenge. The prose carries that earnest teacher’s voice…carefully arranging lessons and signposts…while the sparrow outside carries no footnotes at all. That quiet shift into the haiku lands perfectly. Lovely work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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