Category Archives: American Sentence

those empty rooms (haibun)

Today I sit thinking of my cousin who is like my kid brother. He lost his lifelong partner last Wednesday. I’m a phone call away and an hour and a half drive away but still… For now there will be children and grandchildren visiting; aunts, uncles and cousins too and friends bringing him comfort as well as a casserole or two. The busyness goes on like a whirlwind for those who grieve and then after the services it slowly stops. Let the grief truly begin. There is no right way or wrong way to mourn, nor is there an expiry date…no indeed, it stays fresh, raw and painful for the time it does…and I know he aches today and will tomorrow. His children and grandchildren will miss their mother and grandmaman who lived life with such passion. She laughed with such enthusiasm and loved with all her heart.

(American Sentence)

Walking through each empty room, he looks longingly theough his liquid blues.


Daily Moments December 8, 2017

The Friday Reminder for Saturday and Prompt SoCS “liqu”

Daily Moments December 1 2017 three years ago Haibun

© Clr ’14 Colombe (Mom) June 22, 1926-Dec 2, 2014

On this day three years ago I had dreamed half the night. The dream of my mother and I trying to save a dying child. Each time I woke up shocked by the dream, I would go back to sleep and dream the exact same scene…3 times until I could no long sleep. I waited until sunrise and called the nursing home to ask how my mother was. The nurse said, « Viens vite, il ne lui reste plus grand temps.»

I no longer had a car since the fall and called a taxi. It was snowing lightly and it was very cold. The sky was so grey and morbid. I talked all the way down with the taxi driver. His mother had recently passed…

She used every means to get me by her side…I will be forever thankful and she passed a little after midnight…

you poked me
three times
I was by your side
one last time …you looked at me
passing to the other side

missing you
embraced by your soothing voice
telling me each time

I love you darling –
don’t forget your Hail Mary’s

never too old
j’suis toujours ton bébé
miss you Mom…



Random thoughts  ~ American Sentence Daily Moments #27

(c) Clr’17

Saturday’s tears, hidden by Sunday morning snow, until tomorrow.

Listening to yesterday’s songs in Mom’s rocking chair, then she appears.

First snow, I’m a child again, laying on my back making snow angels.

If only the world was led by their hearts instead of their egos.

Written for Micro Poetry Month #27

Mom’s morning routine (Solo Renga)

Breastfeeding in the 1950s

Photo credits: VavoomyVintage blog

new dawn chirps
neighbour’s hound barks at sparrows
infant wails

gulls squawk broadcasts new day
Ah!! last gasps of espresso

eager suckling
mama coos at precious babe
creaking rocker soothes

(c) Tournesol ’15

Heeding Haiku with HA at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

my mother, my dove (haiga)



Once a sprightly dove
now flies above and beyond
forever gone

une  colombe
lost its voice
the earth weeps

a special dove
flies up to heaven
lost my voice

dove of life
above and beyond

punched me

broke my heart

cries searching
ma colombe

without my dove
tender endings

necessary loss,
life sweeps away,
mourning dove

daughters shift gears
lost, am I

baring a new role
orphan am I

wings spread,
chirping farewell
Mother dove

(american sentence)

An orphan is born when the last parent has departed forever.

© Tournesol ’14/12/03

spirit is infinite (haibun)

© Clr `14
© Clr `14

The only death I truly accepted and understood the infinite journey was my grandfather’s death. Although I was only six, I was blessed to be in a family that was open about life and death; my grandmother being a midwife, talked often of the births she assisted and it did not take away my youth as so many of my Anglo-Saxon raised peers felt…French Canadians kept many European mores I think. And so I remember going to hospital to await the news the doctors would pronounce of the impending fate of my GrandPapa. We often sat by his bedside holding his hand daily for a year, as I lived with my grandparents that year. My sister and I saw the priest perform his last rites, Extreme Unction and his last smile at me surrounded by his children the day he passed.

So for me, finite meant my favourite person had an expiry date to his suffering; he would be in a place where there is no pain, where he could run freely …and yes, I believed this and to some extent still do.

At my age, I have lost many relatives and friends to death and more recently a friend and colleague for whom I have shared a series of haiku; unfortunately there are many I have not quite accepted…sudden deaths, people too far for me to go to their service are mostly the people I still struggle to accept and sometimes I feel it was all a dream and they are still here.

How often I wanted to dial the number of my friend, Janet, who died suddenly when I was far away. The only person who read my mind, felt my emotions; our signal to chat after midnight…one ring…we both knew was the other who wished to talk until dawn. I still don’t accept the infinite passing of this friend.

(American Sentence)

Grandpapa, tu es toujours près de moi, dans mon cœur, ombrant mon âme.


humble corps affaibli
enfin libéré
douleur fini

âme pétillant
pure et infini
les cieux attendent

yeux brillants
plonge dans l’éclat céleste
lumière blanche

lumière blanche
le séduit à l’éther

âme sans âge baigna
grâce devin


weary body
humble and finite
pain-free at last

soul lives on
infinite and pure
heavens await

eyes dip in hallowed glow
white light

white light
seduced to the ether

ageless soul bathes
celestial grace

© Tournesol ’14

Carpe Diem “accepting the finite”