There are many things that I love about autumn: the kaleidoscope of ruby, amber and citrine foliage; the pungent smell of undergrowth and damp soil; mysterious mist and fog; and the first early morning frost sketching cobwebs and snail trails with its silver touch.
Fresh frost is silent until I listen closer – and hear it whispering poetry on the footpath, on branch and leaf, in the pictures it leaves on windows. Frost makes footsteps ring, leaves crunch, soil creak, and my skin and nose sting.
written with hoary fingers
a whisper of rime
Kim M. Russell, 2017
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Haibun Monday : Shimo no koe—First Frost
Victoria is our host and asks us to listen to the breahless voice of Autumn’s first frost, which she says, on a quiet windless night, can be heard when the earth and air whisper ‘shin shin’.
For today’s Haibun, Victoria wants us to dig into our memories or go outside to conjure up a poem related to first frost—shimo no koe: it could be about the withering of the garden, the anticipation of the work of harvesting and clearing out the yard in preparation for winter, the scent of earthy loam and mouldering leaves, the crisp cool air that fills our lungs on an early morning walk or the persistence of that sheltered rose bush that continues to delight us with her blooms.