I woke up to the sound of chuckling rain. what a relief, a break from the urgent calls of the sun: come fork mounds of straw off the garden beds! come plant seeds–it’s early spring! come let the seedlings under indoor lamps breathe outside air! come out to mow the grass! I raise the blind and see young blades rising from the earth … they’ll be twice as hard to mow after their feast but what can I do? my body has rebelled, compelled me to rest and so I must.
put to the test again
Later sunlight returns, fresh leaflets shimmer, birds twitter…no be-twixt and between for them…nor for the cardinal calling from the highest branch.
Kitty cat purrs
Sprawled on resting legs
taking it easy
Today Lillian at dVerse invites us to write any kind of poem incorporating two or more brand names. I chose the chocolate category: Chuckles (chuckling rain), Mounds (mounds of straw), Twix (be-twixt) and Kit-Kat (kitty cat). I folded these references into a haibun about my current experience of spring. I am also linking to Haikai Challenge #33: spring rain.
The red-domed lady bug makes its way around the edge of the washroom sink. Lower down, near the drain, another one shuffles. I find a piece of paper and lift the second one to a safer place on the window sill. Then I reach for my toothbrush and toothpaste and turn on the tap. What do these tiny bugs feel I wonder. Do they suffer like us if overwhelmed by a torrent of running water?
My quadrille is based on a poem by Dick Allen (1939-2017) published in 2016 in his book “zen master poems” . In this collection of poems Allen writes from within the persona of a Zen Master.
My first line quotes the first line of his poem and my concluding questions mimic his use of questions. To read his poem please follow this link to the Google Books preview, page 6.
For some reason I counted the words in Allen’s poem and discovered that it is exactly 44 words (in other words, it’s a quadrille). My quadrille uses the word ‘muddle’, this week’s quadrille prompt at dVerse Poets Pub.
I walk our two dogs on this warm spring day of firsts— my first time out with no coat, just a long sleeved flannel shirt, jeans and sturdy boots. There, beside the ditch hugging the ground, the first dandelion flowers and everywhere fresh sprouts of grass emerging out of the gully water and fresh gravel thrown by the township this winter. My feet land happily on soft ground still moist and pliant after weeks of rain and snowmelt. Bentley turns his head back and I see he is laughing as he pulls us forward. I snap a picture of him as I scan the brush for new buds and I am not disappointed. Tiny catkins have multiplied and droopy green ones hang from another branch.