It was 30C and humid here today – and try as I might I couldn’t channel coldness for Frank’s dVerse Haibun Monday prompt, “winter“. Maybe if we had air-conditioning I could have done better.
She carries spring in her step, so what need could she have for its green in her hair? What need, when her hair is yellow-brown as a summer wheat field, and her skin stores the sun and the boundless, cloudless sky is in her eyes?
I offer pink, mauve, blue (roses and lilacs, summer blooms under clear skies).
But no, it has to be green. So, I take the small bottles from my own (winter defying, winter denying?) palette: apple green, electric lime, sweet mint. I twine the colours (tendrils, vines) through the summer of her hair. And in the end it is not so much like spring come to awaken winter fields (as I want to believe it is in my hair), as like rain-wakened ground after the drought ends. As she waits, I do my own.
The snow in my hair
will not melt away in spring.
But it holds apples.
20 responses to “mum’s hairdressing salon II”
This is beautiful, Kate. I want to read it over and over.
Thanks Worms ❤
I love that Haiku, Kate. 👏👏
Thanks Hobbo 🙂
That is a gorgeously rendered image, Kate. And your haiku too!
Thanks David 🙂
So many wonderful lines in this Kate, ‘She carries spring in her step’ that recognition by you and yet she is not so sure of for herself, that dilemma of ageing and uncertainty. I love the winter – spring dichotomy.
I was surprised when my daughter wanted green instead of pink hair this time. Usually I have green and she has something more flamboyant.
Beautiful haiku 🙂
Thank you 🙂
Wonderful colorful write Kate. I appreciated the bright approach you took in this piece… 🙂
Thanks Rob. ❤
The colours sound wonderful Kate.
Thanks Marion 🙂
a superb prose-poem/essay–not sure what form it is, but it’s really good
thanks Roger – it’s a haibun, 2 to 3 short prose paragraphs followed by a haiku on the same theme.
Kate, I’m left in awe of your ability to craft a piece, as per the wikipedia definition : Haibun (俳文?, literally, haikai writings) is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku.
A haibun may record a scene, or a special moment, in a highly descriptive and objective manner or may occupy a wholly fictional or dream-like space. The accompanying haiku may have a direct or subtle relationship with the prose and encompass or hint at the gist of what is recorded in the prose sections.
Thanks David 🙂 ❤ ❤
I really like haibun – the freedom to write at length on something, but also the challenge of a haiku.
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