Place
Pregnant and homeless. Stopping at a country church, I had the need to fill a policeman’s helmet ( a strange urban Victorian law/myth? ). There being none, I scrambled into a long forgotten part of the churchyard. Moss covered headstones lay sunk in angled planes, barely visible in the damp light.
answering a call
marking my territory
I reserve a place
When the twins were born, one, compromised at birth, died. My rootless position meant that my only connection was the country churchyard where a piece of me lay outside the locked doors. There was a funeral. A white casket. A rosemary bush for a headstone. I never visited, only the old grave tender knew where it was and he himself has taken his place.
only twigs
on this rosemary bush
winter moon
So heartbreakingly tender, like the rosemary twig remains.
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Thankyou Angie..we carry our skeletons with us on this all hallows eve………
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very touching words- very much like a winter’s moon moment.
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Thanks Sun..
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This haibun was very special, taking me suddenly from one mood to another, with startling, precise description of scenery then background. The opening was so, so powerful, and when I finished I felt bitterness of today’s callous society, again. You took great care with the words you closed with. Really strong writing.
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I really appreciate your thoughtful and tactful feedback..Nicole the deckhand
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Really powerful – from the first line to the very last one. In every detail described, every emotion and the way they echoed in my mind. Moving and very raw.
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Hi Ese,
Thanks for your comments, I appreciate the feedback, trying to keep the succinct objectivity of the narrative, while leaving signposts hinting at a deeper emotional connection nearly makes my head explode!! Difficult isn’t it? I should be painting, ( but that’s no less problematic ) so I just did some cooking instead………
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I bet it is difficult! But I am sure you did the cooking with the same artistic touch you do your writing and your art as well. 🙂
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Nice!
This reads like a haibun, with that objective voice that comes with a narrator recounting a past event. I need to develop a voice like yours… I always end up getting too wrapped into the story to stay on a level.
Keep them coming, nic!
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Hi,
Thanks for your encouragement, see you in the engine room!
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Actually you don’t need to develop a voice like mine…I struggle with the same thing.. I found a good quote the other day …’ everything changes when you begin to emit your own frequency rather than absorbing those around you..’ etc
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So powerful … A wonderful, complex, heartbreaking piece.
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