My neighbor mows his lawn by the light of the moon. I listen to the whirr of the tractor’s motor grow near, and then recede. As if he follows the glow as the earth revolves, and the moon rises, or appears to. What does he think about, out there in the dark? His father recently died. Grief grips us by the lapels, throws us off balance. Maybe it is only under the cover of darkness that he finds solace. All the sudden, unbidden memories becalmed by the clamor of the engine. Maybe the moon massages the nostalgia into something manageable.
a flood of wildflowers
For dverse Haibun Monday. Something I don’t do nearly enough of….
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A first-grade girl draws a picture of the sun with a dozen yellow lines meant to be rays poking out of the golden circle. It fills the wide, white page. In the bottom right hand corner, with a pink crayon, she draws a tiny family. She labels them: mommy, daddy, me, baby brother, and a dog, Charlie. I ask why she hasn’t written her brother’s name. “He doesn’t have one, yet.” Why not? “My mom wants to call him Ian. My dad says his name is Tony. That’s more of a man’s name, you know.” She is small for her age. The blue crayon she uses to color in an azure sky looks oversized in her tiny hand. She looks up at me with green eyes that rip my heart in two, like that broken heart image on greeting cards. I wish she were mine. I ask her about the size of the sun. “Did you know that the sun is 93 million miles from earth?” I smile and nod my head yes. “Everyone is happy when the sun is out. I want to bring it closer.”
sudden splash of sun
eyes adjust, and raised voices
erupt in laughter
For the Ligo-Haibun Challenge hosted by Pirate and Nightlake. Click on the logo to read many diverse interpretations of the prompt. Or better yet, submit your own!
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