shadows (my haibun at Notes from the Gean, March 2012)
shadows
how much longer
As a child, I searched for shadows. Under trees at high noon when the crown of an acacia tree from across our balcony covered its root space like a clipped parasol, I’d creep to it and hug the ancient roots, basking in its shadow. By the stream where my grandmother scoured the soot off the iron rice pot and skillet, I’d haunt the silken strips of shadows under bamboo groves. I waited on the engorged shadow of a kingfisher that never failed to fly by.
My grandmother had learned from snoops that I sauntered alone at high noon by the stream–even took dips. Upbraided, I stopped creeping under the shadowed stream for a while. Instead, I began haunting shadows in the wooded orchard of a grandaunt. One afternoon, a buzzing shadow chased me. A swarming cloud, the bees I had disturbed raced me to the chicken coop. I suffered a few stings, which my grandaunt soothed with dabs of burnt molasses syrup.
These days, I’m hunting shadows again under ruins and buildings that block the sun off. Why this disdain for the sun, a friend once asked. What answer could I give?
half
of who we are
shadows
Notes from the Gean 3:4 March 2012
NOTE: layout for this page only with photo of an old building in Montreal by eleanor angeles
Beautiful, hermana! I always love your prose, and the haiku–stunning!
Mil gracias, otra vez, mil veces, mi hermana!!! So happy you like it!
Oh, you’re writing is outstanding! I love the all that you’ve written here. 🙂
ooops! “your” is what i meant… 🙂
I love all that you’ve written here.
Many thanks, Chrissi!!!
I read it the right way, anyway…
Oh, Chrissi, how you uplift my spirit with this! Thanks greatly!