Which tree will the hummingbird choose this year, she wonders, looking out the window from her dining room. Rocking in her old maple chair, the constant groan is weighing on her eyelids. Suddenly, eyes widen as a bird sets on her balcony.
starling sings her song
dawn of spring
cat’s eyes follow
starling sings her song
pre-season rehearsal
practice makes perfect
dawn of spring
sun melts snow
earth finally revealed
cat’s eyes follow
on the windowsill
sleepy fly stirs
Such a lovely spring day to be in a park. An old couple sit on a park bench. The man leans on his cane, watching his life partner talk to the birds. Gnarled fingers toss seeds to the pigeons, then places a plastic bowl filled with seeds under the bench where grateful sparrows wait.
cycling by the park boy holding tight, kite on a string
cycling by the park
child hangs on the monkey bar
squeak of swings
boy holding tight,
hand on her swollen belly
teeter-totter moans
kite on a string
dancing on blue canvas
how the wind sings!
We are asked to write a haibun of 100 words with the theme the circle of life. I chose to include a troiku making my narrative and haiku a troibun. To see what a troiku is, check at our host’s website CarpeDiemHaikuKai here.
“Not another rainy day!!” Trula stomped her feet and threw herself on the couch and sulked.
Her nana rocked by the window and pointed her finger at her grand-daughter, “Child, you take each day as it comes. You cannot command the universe or turn your back to what the Great Spirit hands you each day. You will regret it some day.” Holding her wooden beads, she whispered softly to herself but the only audible words were “protect her”.
Trula rolled her eyes and scowled at her nana. Year after year, it was the same thing when it was cloudy, raining, snowing or windy, Trula made a scene and refused to study and as she got older refused doing chores on the farm.
Several years later her nana died, when Trula was twenty-one. The family buried her on the farm near an old oak tree where Nana used to sit and read for hours and later when her eyes failed her, she would pray and smile up at the sky giving thanks to the Great Spirit for each new day.
A few days after the burial, Trula was planting seeds in the garden and suddenly the sky turned dark. An odd-looking cloud loomed over her and the wind picked up dramatically. Trula rose her fist to the sky in protest when suddenly she felt her feet lift from the ground and long tendrils pulling at her shoulder and head; a huge CRACK resonated from the sky muffling the sound of a broken neck.
(c) Brooke Shaden
the universe rules, appreciate each day rain or shine
We are asked to form a haibun by adding a haiku to our host’s beautiful narrative; after writing one haiku, the image and moment had more to say so I wrote a troiku instead to be true to the experience I had reading this narrative. Shall I call this Tale & Troiku? or Traibun? Perhaps our host can help me with this for I find myself writing a troiku with a narrative more often than naught.
Tournesol dans un Jardin 