On a never-ending January day, the whole garden drips with silent grief. There are a few sparse, dried-up leaves clinging desperately to the willow, now pollarded and looking sorry for itself. No birds alight on its branches, not even the magpie, which has taken to haunting the silver birch right at the end near the rickety gate.
The clouds have no outline; they mass together with the heaviness of time. When the sun does deign to shine, it’s weak and feeble, a whisper of heat and enthusiasm that doesn’t reach into my bones, let alone my heart.
on a frosty branch
a solitary magpie
the silence of grief
Kim M. Russell, 7th January 2019
My haibun for my prompt at dVerse Poets Pub Haibun Monday: January
I’m hosting at the dverse Pub today and the theme is January, when celebrations are over, most people are back to work and children are back at school. There is an overall feeling of emptiness, which is reflected in the January skies: they are grey with hardly any birds. And it is the month in which my mother died two years ago.