Haibun: The Grey

Haibun Monday at dVerse.  Bjorn is our host and enjoins us to think of grey.

The Grey
I am a porch sitter from ‘way back. I sit on the steps of our back porch in all weathers and watch the night. The last full moon was bright. The light changed the world into shades from ash to argent – trees were blacker shapes against the black starry sky and the lawn was palest silver. An old photograph it looked to be. I walked around the yard clothed in grey – the dark grey shrubs, the light silver of dried grass, the middle tones of my skin. The whole world had been transformed into grey by the magic of the moonlight.

I went back to the steps and sat. The frost glittered in the moonlight like faceted hematite. Stretching out under the moon like a grey tabby cat, the lawn flexed and flowed down to the woods. As I watched this silent grey night, from the old potting shed came a small black and white cat followed by two young kittens. I held my breath and watched them go the plate where I had earlier placed food. They didn’t notice me at all, silent and still. I watched as they ate their fill and then returned to the potting shed. A bit later, a red fox crossed the yard at a trot, intent upon his own business looking neither to the right or left of him. The grey holds so many secrets. I get to watch them all unfold – like an old silent movie. When dawn began to come, the world was transformed into lighter grey – everything the same color. I stood up stiffly and went back into the house to awake my husband for work. The inside of the house was warm. The lace curtains in the bedroom changed into a solid sheet of grey, the patterns of the lace growing together. My husband’s face was still and calm, deep into sleep. I gently touched him to awaken him. In the grey pre-dawn, he pulled the quilt over his head and went back to sleep.
grey of winter night –
the moon changes all the dross
into purest silver

stock photo

Gold Day

For Rommy’s prompt at Real Toads – Love hurts

Gold Day
the afternoon you left
was a golden roux of fading autumn sunlight,
spicy oak leaves –
bright yellow, still holding on to the tree,
not yet ready to fall,
and bitter salt tears –
like the oak leaves – refusing to fall,
refusing to join the earlier faded maple leaves on the lawn.
under the trees, quiet and still,
I allow the knowledge of your leaving to permeate my being.
I am still breathing.
My heart is still beating.
The sky is still ethereal blue with purest white autumn clouds
wafting their way to the end of the horizon –
Starlings lift from the telephone wires to follow the clouds –
I realize, I will continue on my way –
leaves will change color and fall,
snow will cover the sepia winter landscape –
cherry blossoms will bud, bloom, and fade –
trees will leaf in explosions of green,
leaves will change color and fall –
Seasons and things will pass.
inside, my soul says “Oh!”
I sit as the gold day ends –
early leaf burning –
its incense drifts to heaven
autumn’s voice whispers.

Haiku: White Wisteria.

Today Frank hosts the dVerse Poets Pub. He is asking for brevity as in Japanese poetic forms of haiku and tanka. All haiku must have a seasonal reference (kigo) but not necessarily a syllable count of 5-7-5. Haiku and tanka are not given titles. If it does not have a seasonal reference, it is a senryu.

 

white wisteria –
ghosts in the trees weeping with
the misty spring rain

 

woodblock by Kono Bairei 1844-1895

Haibun: Valentine’s Day

Haibun: Valentine’s Day

We met online – a true romance of the 1990’s. He answered an online ad I had placed along with 20,000 other folk who responded. But his stood out, mainly because he was a local and he didn’t try to wow me. Just introduced himself, some of his interests, and where he worked. Quiet. Simple. I responded. We emailed a couple of weeks and then I called him. His voice was melodious and educated and he had a dry wit. After telephoning for a week, we decided to meet at a local restaurant for lunch. He said he had taekwondo and would meet me afterwards. I had been told about his physical appearance – medium tall, medium build, balding. I had shared my physical appearance – short and round like a beach ball. We liked each other at first sight and began dating. At first cautious and then throwing the wildness into the wind.

He took me to his parent’s home on Valentine’s Day. They were staying at Myrtle Beach for the winter and he was taking care of their home. He showed me around and then very quietly, he asked me to sit on the couch. My heart went cold. “He is breaking up with me” I thought. He went over to the piano and began to chord and to talk-sing, “Never gonna give you up” chord chord chord “Never gonna let you down” chord chord chord – all the way through the Rick Astley song that spoke to us both. He then left the piano and came over to the couch and kneeled on one knee. “I love you. Will you marry me?” I threw myself on him hugging him for all I was worth. “Yes! Oh yes!”

snow falling outside –
fire on the hearth roses in a vase –
love blooming within

Haiku: Flowering quince

copyright kanzensakura

 

tiny red buds
sleeping in the cold –
sign of spring

sign of spring
blooming in spite of snow
flowering quince

 

copyright kanzensakura

 

Haikai Challenge #19 – Skylark

https://nam01.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=http://frankjtassone.com/2018/02/03/haikai-challenge-19-2-3-18-skylark-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-renga-haiga/&data=02|01||a6a64868f90c44d73ae708d56b20b2d7|84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa|1|0|636532710540013305&sdata=0z1fX9FtyYkT6uCA2kA+le5gBfltlLuB8n5FjJyUOTo=&reserved=0

song of a skylark
floats across summer pasture –
a sound of pure joy

NAHAIWRIMO #1

For Prompt #1 #nahaiwrimo #haiku #micropoetry #poetry I am participating this year. We’ll see how far I go before I become bored with the prompts. Today: biting into a taco. Nice traditional prompt.

summer sun beats down –
taco tastes rancid –
more tequila please

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