I grew up in the ‘50’s and lived by the train tracks where you would hear shunting of freight trains and whistles throughout the day. When I was first married, in the early 70’s my husband and I lived by the train station, again we too felt the vibration of the long cargo train especially late at night. Trains were a way of life in our small town and still, these freight trains impact and at times oppress the lives of the residents.
This reminds me of a typical day in the late 1950’s where shows like Father’s Knows Best was a popular television show…
cooking supper
window shakes
6 o’clock train
cooking supper
children whine they’re hungry
train whistles
window shakes
pot of stew boils over
shrill screeches
6 o’clock train
children squeal with joy
Daddy’s home!
(c) Tournesol’18
Last night she went on a journey into the past. She had discovered her late mother’s old love letter from 1969. She felt she was there next her mom, waiting for her to stop writing so she could go to bed. She was in her last year of high school. She slept with her mother in Grandmaman’s bedroom. Since her older sister was now living and working in Montreal, she no longer had to share the furnace…her old bedroom.
She remembers how her mother fell in love so quickly with her first lover after her parents’ separation…and she fell hard too! She recalls how part of her was worried and did not want her mother hurt; she was so fragile. Another part was jealous…well just a little since it had been her mother, her sister and her sister braving the world for so long. She remembers falling under his spell six months later because he was so good to her mother and treated her like a princess. Soon he became a proud father to her as well.
She read another set of letters mailed to her mother…all from her new lover. Such declarations of pure love. It warmed her heart. The last letter was dated April 30, 1969. Was this a coincidence to be reading these later exactly 49 years later to the day?
She wished she had kept her old letters from her first crush. She was only 13 and he was 17. It was so exciting waiting day after day for the mail to come. She also wrote letters to her best friend who spent the summer at her cottage by the lake. Time moved slower then. You had time to write five, six or ten pages to a friend. Not many could phone even of it was just 20 kilometres away. In those days long distance bills were very expensive and her mother and grandmother could not afford such luxuries! But still, it was a more romantic time…spending hours by the turntable listening to the Beatles and the Rolling Stones.
Sitting on the porch
Waiting patiently
Mister Postman
Sitting on the porch
Watching butterflies
Kissing daffodils
Waiting patiently
Cat hides behind the bush
Eyeing his prey
Mister Postman
Carrying a bag of joy
P.S. I Love You
She tossed and turned throughout the night; her mind was filled with do’s and should’s. A cluttered mind is like a cluttered house. Time to clear out the closets, empty drawers and sort out the junk from the good. How often do we hold something in our hands and ponder for a split second and end up tossing it in a drawer or the bottom of a closet? Often times between season’s change, that same item is found and tossed into the trash. Ah, yes, she finds a cluttered mind is often a sign it is time to do some serious spring cleaning…how therapeutic it can be and at the same time, a clean home is her reward.
cluttered minds
toss and turn all thru the night
spring approaches
cluttered minds
dust bunnies and bread crumbs
hanging on to yore
toss and turn all thru the night
cat chasing its tail
hoot of the night owl
spring approaches
out with the old making room
a renaissance
Walking on her usual path to the bus stop, she rolls her beaded bracelet with two fingers, whispering. At first she looks up at the sky, then notices the trees and branches waving shyly. Images of Amma floats in front of her, smiling…always smiling. Her mind is like a field of bumper cars going, coming and crashing. She has to slow down and whisper louder to block the distractions that clutter her mind.
Amma is known for her embrace but also for her compassion and humanitarianism
After several series, she is in her own world, sitting on the bus, watching the ice patches floating on the Saint Lawrence. Another mega bridge is being built parallel to the one the bus is crossing. All those men working in the cold. She shivers at the thought.
clouds holding secrets
Mother Nature knows
Snow, rain or hail
clouds holding secrets
Chaos in the world
Tears from heaven
Mother Nature knows
How it will all end
Sins we committed
Snow, rain or hail
March wavers tween two seasons
always be prepared
Daily Moments – Sunday reflections – (troibun) A troibun is a term I use to term a haibun but rather than having haiku within the text, I have a Troiku which is a new form of haiku created by my mentor, Chevrefeuille at CarpeDiemHaikuKai
Tournesol dans un Jardin 