We may have had all summer to enjoy the sun, and now night and day are even. Yet as autumn begins to descend, I can’t help feeling it’s not a fair fight. I keep waiting for the last leaf to fall — for the other shoe to drop.
Flaming, leaves are red —
In a world that’s upside-down
Somewhere it is Spring
A haibun inspired by Frank’s challenge about crickets, and the last FDDA, about plans for September. I will miss FDDA, but I’m always grateful for FOWC. I’ve also been trying to respond to other prompts, but this is the best one that I wrote today.
Tomorrow begins September. There are no particular plans, but I hope for more time with friends and being able to actually enter the church again. There were no plans for August, either, other than my friends’ live-streamed wedding on the 1st, but the month was better than expected. I’ll take September one day at a time. Too much thinking and I’ll start sinking in anxieties. As always, I’ll be hunting for the silver lining.
in silence a sound:
August chirping a goodbye —
crickets out of sight
I used to tutor kids in math, and one of their favorite questions to ask me was, “How old are you?” “That’s classified information,” I would say with a smile, which wouldn’t stop them from guessing: “Are you 16?” No. “Are you 30?” NO! There was hardly ever any in-between.
August — late summer?
Early autumn in Japan,
Hard to classify
The news today is that President Trump is suggesting to delay the presidential election until in-person voting is safe. Though absentee mail-in voting is good, he says, to make it universal could lead to massive fraud.
People on the opposite side of the aisle are framing this as the president clinging to his spot in the Oval Office. I don’t think so. Say what you want about Trump; he is right that the potential for voter fraud is higher, and with the way his opponents have hounded him for the past 4 years, he is right to be worried.
I think no matter which way the election swings, it’s bound to be a disaster.
thunder and lightning
shouts of four horsemen ready
skies already gray
We are writing traditional haibun about “one shining moment” in our life. Green and gold were mt high school’s colors.
After four years came her shining moment: Finally she was graduating from high school, with high honors. Her grades were not perfect, but she was happier for the fact of their imperfection, since it showed that she could survive it.
The sky above the sea of green and gold smiled benignly, while the future lay ahead of her like an exciting novel, in a language she could not read.
Under blazing sun
Clouds float in their big ocean —
We toss tasseled caps
For SoCS, our word is “nail.” Sometimes my brain can be ridiculous, but that’s stream-of-consciousness, so without further ado….
All I can think about are nail salons, even though I hate manicures. Looking at my cuticles, you can tell I hate manicures. What I hate more than manicures is how many places remain closed. I would appreciate the freedom to deny a manicure myself.
remind me of M&Ms
that you cannot eat
This haibun is written in response to Frank J. Tassone’s prompt about Easter lilies. Easter is celebrated for 8 days on the Catholic liturgical calendar, and the Easter season lasts for several more weeks. I am grateful for each of my friends, especially for those who have stayed in contact with me during this crisis, but I still am having such a hard time not being able to see anyone in person!
I would give white Easter lilies to my friends, to say, “Pleased to have made your acquaintance.” Then I may bestow, on a certain someone, lilies of yellow, to urge us to “live for the moment.”
though love is patient
fights against separation
from the Beloved
On this first day of NaPoWriMo, I am posting a haibun in response to Frank J. Tassone’s prompt about the virus.
Almost exactly two years before this quarantine started, I spent my spring break visiting a monastery. I was considering the life of a cloistered nun, as I was very attracted to their way of life and prayer.
I loved every minute of that time and even visited again that summer. However, in the end, it was not to be, and I have not pursued it any further.
Now is my new chance to be a cloistered nun.
Black-and-white clad nuns
Flock together in spirit
As bells are tolling