I’m a little behind on prompts, so this poem is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Wolf Moon, DVerse’s haibun Monday about beginnings, and JusJoJan day 7, “mix.”
At the beginning of this year, I think of the last — a mixture of joyous and difficult, heavy on the bitterness — and I get nervous. Emotions cannot void the truth: that I got through 2019 (someone even told me I was thriving), and the same can be for 2020. Memories of sadness stick a little better, but count the stars of happy moments — if you are able to number them.
After fullness starts anew —
A friend once called depression a “gift.” I knew that he must have experienced it himself, or he would never have had the audacity to say that to me. It has given me more compassion and greater willingness to love others; but honestly, it’s a gift I’m still unwrapping.
Climbing vines cover brick walls
Gift of red and green
For haibun Monday at DVerse, we are writing about insects. Click HERE to join in!
It is October first; we ought to be well into autumn by now. I think summer is hanging on, or at least the mosquitoes haven’t packed their bags. Just this morning, I felt two new bites on my legs, a persistent reminder.
Sitting here in a coffee shop, I see no blue object to write about. Except my own poetry notebook, which has a dark-blue cover. It is an old book, repurposed. It used to be an old novel called The House of a Thousand Candles. In this iteration, it has been reincarnated as a notebook, filled with blank pages, but some of the story’s pages have also been retained. It makes me wish that I could read the whole story.
Frank Tassone is hosting DVerse for Haibun Monday, and we are commemorating Hiroshima Day. Today is the anniversary of the atomic bombing in Hiroshima.
Each year, on the anniversary of this horrific atomic bombing, we are reminded not only of treachery but, somehow, of peace. Stronger than the bombs is the spirit of resilience. A people survives after the fighting has ended, and a city stands again.
Fat Man, Little Boy —
Two opposites coexist —
Just like war and peace?