The Promise (haibun)

 ~

Forget-me-nots still self-seed under the dogwood you planted. Tall and straight now I wish you could see it before it's shadow bends in the winter wind.  Its bare, red branches house a high-rise of vacant webs where fog lingers in the empty nest. The long arms of a conifer sweep wide and low, catching itinerant leaves. Half frozen, flicking around empty spaces.

nothing of you --

a pressed rose whose story

I forget

The fog lifts as midmorning disperses into blues and yellow-lime greens. This time of year, the garden is mostly bare except for the daffodils. That one Rhoddo, tight with bud, holding colour close. A delicate point shifting emphasis, a promise.

a blackbird

tugs at the worm --

both stretching

~

©Regina Piroska (Gina)

Drifting Sands Issue 31 2025 (14 March- page34)