For the dVerse Monday Haibun prompt, “August“:

August is a time of uncertainty, of transition – of winter greys and browns being suddenly speckled with green and yellow as the daffodils in my garden and the wattles in the bush bloom.
One day I wake to find the birdbath frozen over, and huddle in my coat, woolly beanie pulled low as I rush to do my outdoor chores. The next day the sun warms my back so much I shed layers down to a t-shirt – fooling me into forgetting my woolly beanie the next day so my ears freeze.
One day the air carries the sweet dusty scent of the wattles, the next it is so icy all I can smell is the sharp metallic scent of cold, that reddens the nose and makes it run. And then, suddenly, a hint of spring drifts through again.

A tendril of warmthwattle
curls through the air, carrying
scent of earth and growth.


Filed under poem

13 responses to “August

  1. Lovely! August in a nutshell!

  2. The transitions always overlap. (K)

  3. A gorgeous sensory poem, Kate! I love that winter chill when it cuts through the air 🙂 (I did have to google what a wattle was however).

  4. Beverly Crawford

    I, too, was brought up short by the wattles. I always thought a wattle was that red fold of skin under the neck of a chicken or turkey, but you refer to it as blushing in bloom! I love our poetic community. I learn something every day!

    • Wattles are an iconic Australian wildflower, one of the few things that gives the landscape any colour where there are few showy flowers and no native deciduous trees. I’ve added a picture. 🙂

  5. Love how you evoke the transitional nature of August so eloquently. Well-done!

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