Tag Archives: prose

dancing in the wind (haibun)

© dverse Poets Pub,View of the church of Saint Paul de Mausole 1889 – private collection of Elizabeth Taylor

The sun is smiling today.  There is still an extra hour of bright colours before I am forced to retire to the  gloom of old church dorms.   I must hurry  and not waste time in the narrows of my mind!   It is time to capture what my heart might see some day…again.   Oh to have lived among the life of such hints, once sparked my life.

The sky is bursting with bright aqua and the sun is so bright it  dominates the clouds.  Billows smile in her golden glow. Oh how I would love to be there some day and run through the fields with my lover.  Hand in hand skipping like youngsters again. Oh, to be young again and soulfully alive.

It is a good harvest,  I overheard a farmer say to the cook last week. And yes, I can see the wealth of wheat so much prettier in the fields;  blow, blow wind!  Run while you still can until we meet again in the grey pit of my breakfast bowl  where only milk and brown sugar will turn you into a shade of mud.

feel nature’s pulse
golden wheat waltz
lilt of the wind

© Tournesol ’15

Dverse Poets – Monday Haibun

November Haibun #3

THE WALTZING WIND – Michiel Merkies – Piano Solos volume 1

day’s end (haibun – haiga)

It’s not even three  in the afternoon and already the day is ready to close right before my eyes. Sadly, I watch the clouds get darker from my window.  Even the cars passing by on the boulevard are louder. I hear a humming that was not there in the summer.  I just realized this a few days ago, it is the winter tires that make the traffic sound louder and soon I will be hearing the studded tires crackling along on the pavement too.

As the season gets darker, bleaker, barren and colourless perhaps the sounds seem more acute as well notwithstanding those studded tires of course.

dayling slowly sinks

humming lullabies
daylight slowly sinks –
sleep well

© Tournesol ’15

beholden (haibun)

She stayed all  night and day, as her daughter cried from the pain she too felt striking at her heart at each contraction. If only she could have bargained with the devil to lesson her agony.    Twenty-four hours of labour and finally, her grandson was born.  The doctor offered her the honour to cut the umbilical cord. She gasped, overjoyed with her new role. She looked up at her precious gem through teary eyes and humbly bowed in her mind’s eye at her offspring’s gift.

beholden, she beams
pearl at the centre
 reaping blossom

© Tournesol ’15

Carpe Diem “Clam”

Chez Alice (haibun)

Sunday brunch had become a tradition for these ladies. Some were divorced; a few never tied the knot and one widowed. They met at work years ago and since  had all retired. For many retirement meant either long overdue travelling with their mate or slipping away into oblivion, but not these ladies.   They  seemed like born again “girls”. They went on road trips together, started a book club, hosted social teas,  attended art exhibits and often took to the streets now and then advocating for change.

(Troiku)

A lovely name
Chez Alice’s menu
special of the day

A lovely name
wet nurse feeds another babe
sustenance

Chez Alice’s menu
array of helpings
sweet and light

special of the day
extra virgin spread
high in harmony

© Tournesol ’15

CP A Lovely Name

April skies (haibun)

As soon as the alarm went off, she jumped out of bed and pulled the curtain in her bedroom.

“Oh boy! she said, “The snow has melted everywhere!”

She shuffles towards the kitchen, screaming, “MAMA!!, can I wear my new Easter shoes to school to day…pretty please!!”

Her mother is packing her daughter’s lunch and turns her head towards the kitchen window.

“Well love, you know the earth is still frozen, it may be too cold…I don’t know…” her voice trails as she looks at the thermometer outside by the window sill.”

Ah Mama, puleeeze, I promise to wear my thick tights. Come on, Mama, it skips better in shoes,” she whines preparing to pout, “I’m brining my skipping rope to school for recess…pretty please!!” she raises her baby blues pleading to her mother…

“Oh, alright”, her heart melts at those blue liquid eyes.

april 16 2015

 April skies beckon
walking in her brand new shoes
blossoms await

© Tournesol ’15

Photo actually taken at five in the afternoon April 16, 2015.

Wolf Girl (haibun)

My contribution to this great prompt at Free Write Friday. Thank you Kellie.

trust[4]

A short Narrative

Wolf Girl

Erik Boone Art

They called her the Wolf girl at the hospital on the psych ward. No one had been able to approach her …much. She was like a wild animal. If you came too close to her, she would howl; if she was hungry she would stand at your table, looking at your tray with the most appealing eyes, no one could refuse her. The staff was curious about her but all, without exception, fell in love with her especially when she would curl up into a ball in the fetus position on the centre of her bed…thumb in mouth, lights ON. If ever a staff member felt pity for anyone sleeping with those bright neon lights and turned it off in her room, she would sit up, howling, eyes wide-eyed holding on to her blanket for dear life.

Her name was Torey.  Child services brought her in 3 months ago to Emergency for a check up and after examination by doctors as well as the psycho-educator in chief, they assumed she would get her discharge no later than 3 days (which was customary in “those” cases). But she never got that release and Dr. Shelley, the Psycho-Educator in chief would not release her. She had a different reason at each court hearing…this last one was selective mutism, and that this youth was sexually assaulted multiple times for years. Torey was 11 by now but what the hell did  “multiple times for years”even mean?  Dr. Shelley just knew that this child should NOT be placed in foster care without guarantees she would be safe.   The system had failed her in the past when this child had put her trust in adults who should have kept her safe.  Dr. Shelley knew there are NO such guarantees.  She  took it upon herself to make sure she remain the ward of the court and in the children’s psychiatric ward indefinitely.  She had hope that some day soon, she just may make a breakthrough. Torey may decide to talk.

It was December 24th, 3 and a half months since Torey’s admission, and she was in her daily interview with Dr. Shelley. This therapist had a unique approach with youths, those with selective mutism.  Her past 10 years experience working solely with teens who had autism spectrum had given her a new skill…EEP.  Her colleagues, mostly professors at the local university scoffed at her when she said it was actually a skill that had to be learned with working with “exceptional” youths.  EEL stands for Exceptional Empathetic Listening skills.  Dr. Shelley had a knack of drawing out the most difficult and resistant child into trusting her enough to start talking…even if it was one hour a day, that was a miracle in many cases she had worked on.

Torey was different. She was brilliant. She had a way of knowing what adults were thinking and what they needed. This is how they discovered her exceptional talent or sixth sense.

One day, Nurse Grant, who had worked on the pediatric ward on the psychiatric section for 20 years,  walked on the floor with a limp wearing tinted glasses.  Staff all inquired with sympathy what had happened to her over the weekend and she just  brushed them off with a, “Ah just clumsy old me bumped into the glass bus shelter. With the darn sleet and snow mingled, I could not see an inch in front of me and I banged the corner of my left eye and slipped and sprained my ankle. Enough said, no need for pity from anyone, so I got these glasses to avoid your mushy sad looks. Now ya’ll get to work!”  She did have a bit of a bark and everyone went back to work. No one asked her again and most avoided looking at her in the eye…or rather, glasses…except for Torey.  She looked at her suspiciously, sucking her thumb. She circled around her looking up at her and raised her eyebrow.

Then she followed Nurse Grant into the nurse’s lobby and sat right next to her on the couch while she sipped her coffee. Torey looked up and did the most surreal thing…she spoke! “He gave it to you, didn’t he?” she said  in a raspy voice. Nurse Grant almost spilled her coffee and looked at Torey wide eye, in shock.

“What you talkin’ about young lady?!” and Torey did not balk…did not feel intimidated one bit. She just looked up at her this time with compassion, and puppy dog eyes and gave Nurse Grant a hug, whispering in her ear, “I know what them do to you.”

Nurse Grant just savoured this moment because she had a feeling that Torey did, in fact, know.

Later that afternoon, Dr. Shelley was advised about Torey’s first spoken words in private by Dr. Shelley who had to come clean of her own personal circumstances.  Dr. Shelley, called in Torey and asked her, “Well, now, Torey. You certainly gave us a bit of a surprise today and I have to say a very nice surprise. I want to thank you.”  Torey had arrived arms crossed, ready to keep her silence but was cut off guard when Dr. Shelley was thanking her.  She dropped her arms to her side and raised an eyebrow and waited…she was the prize of detectives…she had to know for sure…

Trust no one ever!
Exceptional listening.
Suitable moments.

Dr. Shelley continued, “Torey, Nurse Grant has been in a dratted abusive relationship for years and no one but no one has ever had the courage to confront her and plead with her to get out and to safer environment. Today, Nurse Grant came up to me asking to live in the nurses quarters for the night staff temporarily until she found a new apartment. So I want to thank you for doing something not one counsellor, nurse, doctor or psychologist was able to do until you did.”

Torey stared at her sizing what he had just heard, and took her usual seat in front of Dr. Shelly’s arm chair and said, “Yeah, well, it’s about time she left that f…..g loser. She deserves better.”

That was the first session Torey felt she could trust Dr. Shelley and started disclosing the sexual abuse she was exposed to by her father from the age of 7 to 10 and the abuse in foster car the months following her removal from her home.

Trust has to be earned…Torey was not fool enough to trust just anyone…she knew who could be trusted and she chose to speak to Nurse Grant because she saw peer…a soldier in the fight against abuse  in her…as for Dr. Shelley, well, gosh, Torey, knew she had EEL, she was just waiting for the right moment to feel she could actually trust her.

© Cheryl-Lynn, January 27, 2014