A Silence Observed
I extend my left forearm during tai chi in the dark living room. That’s when I notice how quiet it is outside. No chirping. No tritonal repetitions of that saw-like cacophony.
The first frost has done its work.
that monotonous drone
of morning traffic
What memories or sensual experience can you claim when you think of a first frost? Perhaps it is the withering of the garden that you’ve tended so carefully throughout the summer, the anticipation of the work of harvesting and clearing out the yard in preparation for winter, the scent of earthy loam and moldering leaves, the brilliant colors that trees are boasting, the crisp cool air that fills your lungs on your early morning walk or the persistence of that sheltered rose bush that continues to delight you with her blooms.
For today’s Haibun, I ask you to dig into your memories or go outside to conjure up a poem related to first frost—SHIMO NO KOE. Remember, a Haibun is a brief, 1-2 paragraph of poetic prose followed by a true Haiku that includes a word or phrase that references a season.