Caring About Our World Reflecting About Life
Drink hot soup tomato red
this February night.
Burn a candle flame.
Winter blood still
bathes chilled joints.
Newborn microbes
dance unseen.
Wear wool to hug the skin,
Breathe to clear dry lungs.
We are defrosting,
departing from winter hibernation.
Spring barely has begun.
~
A message from 44º North, 76º West for dVerse Poet’s Pub. We are quadrilling “burn” tonight.
©2018 Ontheland
My hair silvers at the temples and falls out in long white strands. It was brown, then dark dark brown and now…I wonder if my hair is thinning…..my mother’s hair was always blonde….different shades of blonde…she made sure of that. And now my plumage changes. What will leave and what will stay?
old robin flies
in late winter grey
white down catches light
©2018 Ontheland
~
In this haibun I blend a story about hair with my recent sightings of robins. Reading about these birds I discovered that some robins live five years or more if they survive their first year. I am fairly certain that the robins in my yard stayed here for the winter, perhaps feasting on the abundant juniper berries. Their signature red breasts and white plumage on throats and under tails brighten up the landscape. The above photo, from Pixabay, is an American Robin. Many thanks to Bjorn at dVerse for his Haibun Monday prompt: The beauty and the misery of grey.
hearts melt with the sun
in frozen February
almost spring
~
polished porcelain
brushed with juniper
snow shadows
~
her opal locket
mirrors the night sky
a snow-white field
~
© ️2018 Ontheland
When the world becomes a snow globe, it’s time to make soup. The sun is rising earlier, days are longer and everyone is talking about spring, but it’s still freezing cold.
In the fall I buy large and small pumpkins and line them up on the counter. Their brilliant orange cheers my spirits. Two days ago, in cold February, I cut up my second last pumpkin and made a huge pot of soup with ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, cumin and coriander.
Five spice aroma
warms last nights of winter
Is this early spring?
~
©2018 Ontheland
no wind, no storm
disturbs the falling snow
this snow globe world
~
I laughed yesterday when I heard a radio host say “I feel like I’m living in a snow globe”. He was confirming that snow will continue falling for the next few days. I too feel like I am living in a snow globe. I took the above photo while driving home and the image below, showing a snowman in a snow globe, is from Pixabay.
©2018 Ontheland
When the mercury plummets to minus double digits, I think of my hometown, the place of my first 18 years—colder than any place I have ever lived. There is one particular occasion, waiting at a bus stop, that sums up my memories of harsh cold. It’s my freezing temperature benchmark.
On a grey winter day on a downtown street I wait alone for a bus, my vision narrowed to an expanse of frozen pavement. There is no shelter from the biting wind. My cheeks feel like cardboard, my ears are numb, the air is dryer than dry, my fingers clench inside mitts, feet stomp and my mind burrows deep.
mental challenge
in harsh winter winds
warm blood runs deep
~
©2018 Ontheland
My haibun is written in response to the dVerse Monday Hometown Haibun prompt.
glowing
eyes near road edge,
I apply the brakes.
a baby raccoon,
then three squirrels
out to play on a mild winter night
~
My second cherita is a winter night driving story for Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation #17: Out of the Carpe Diem Box. The Cherita challenges you to write a narrative with three ‘stanzas’ of one, two, and three lines. You will find more information about the form at the link above.
©2018 Ontheland
