For Mish’s prompt for Haibun Monday – morning.Also for Tuesday Platform at Toads.

The morning my mother died was one of the most glorious I had seen in many a year. Birds were singing loudly, dew was sparkling on the grass like diamonds, the temperature was perfect. They called me from the skilled nursing facility that morning. I hung up the phone and walked outside, looking and hearing the beauty around me. I stood in the midst of it, numbed. A small finch lit on the grass a few feet from me and chirped then flew away. I began to weep. My mother was dead.
butter yellow sun
coats the grass – birds are singing
my mother to rest

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