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.
writing in north norfolk 
Your poem drips with your heart’s sadness – heaviness of grief and emptiness of the whole garden. The image of the solitary magpie says it all. Hugs Kim and thanks for hosting Haibun Monday.
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Thank you so much, Grace.
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Winter is the time when so many slip away. It’s a harsh time. Even for magpies.
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So true, Jane.
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You draw it well.
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Oh I love how you included that image, I didn’t see it first, but when I scrolled down I saw the van Gogh.. I particularly love the image of clouds amassing together… exactly like as January is,
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Thank you, Björn. The image you sent me came at just the right time!
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oh Kim this was exquisite, how you put into words what nature is feeling and saying to you. I feel the depth of your grief.
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Thank you so much, Gina.
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Grief is certainly the sentiment over here – you have captured it well.
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Thank you, V.J.
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You’re welcome.
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I love your use of the word “pollarded”. The haiku is so full of sadness. January is such a sepia month. The black magpie adds of touch of solitary sadness to this.
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That is exactly how it feels at the moment.
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Oh Kim I’m in this garden with you! This is such a well crafted piece and I really wish I could hug you right now. Beautiful writing.
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Thank you so much, Carol. Virtual hugs are welcome too.
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Then you may have as many as you like Kim.
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🙂
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Wasn’t sure what pollarded was and was going to look it up until seeing the photo. What a stark grimness to it. My condolences at the loss of your mom. It takes time…
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Thank you, Jade.
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I like the phrases “heaviness of time” and “silence of grief”.
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Thanks Frank.
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I hear a wind dirge as I read this. Nice word choice for the prompt; rich with texture and poetic variables. A killer haiku; love multisyllabic words like “solitary”–they change the shape of the form. A word like “contradictory” uses up a lot of line.
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Cheers Glenn.
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love this
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Thank you, Maureen.
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Such a dreary time of year to experience such sadness. Perhaps sharing helps.
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It does, Bev. I think that’s why poetry is so powerful.
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Very good Haibun… clouds massing together with the heaviness of time… Well done!
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Thank you, Dwight!
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The willow, the magpie, the birch. You are singing my song! 🙂
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Thank you, Margaret. 🙂
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Such an evocative piece on January’s grief and emptiness…Van Gogh’s painting fits perfectly. May God comfort you, Kim.
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Thank you so much, Lynn.
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The thick heaviness of January can leave life undefined. I liked this Kim.
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Thank you, Rob. It is the heaviness of January that I find so hard. The mist mist and fog of autumn were much lighter.
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Your haibun suits the van Gogh painting very well. Your haibun of winter in your part of the world is so bleak. Just as mine is over here in Australia. Maybe it’s the energy of this January. World weary we limp our way into a new year.
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Thank you, Suzanne.
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Such a poignant poem, of course because of the anniversary of your mother’s passing…made perfect with the magpie.
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Thank you, Kathy.
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It’s as if the world is in morning for your mother. You capture this so well Kim. When we lose our mothers, I think a whole new aspect of grief comes into our lives.
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Thank you so much, Linda.
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Let’s make that mourning, shall we? Still not 100%.
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Your poem captures the emptiness and grief of losing a loved one. Cold seems much colder during these times. The 2nd paragraph anchors the reader within the moment and maroons them there beneath the unending grey.
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Thank you kindly, Barry.
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I like the way each part of nature is personified in this piece, sharing the same mood of grief and emptiness. Then you join in with your own emotion….”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.” I sincerely empathize with your loss, one I know I will face some day. ((((Hugs))))
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Thank you so much, Mish, especially for the hugs.
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January is the month at the end of the lane, as it were, waiting by itself for better times. ~
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I like that: the month at the end of the lane.
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Perfect painting for expressing grief.
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It is.
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This poem is filled with sadness. I loved the image of the magpie and the silvery birch.
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Thank you, Sascha.
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You convey the pathos of deep winter, as exemplified by January, through skillful anthropomorphication. I can feel the sorrow of dehydrated willows. Evocative and poignant!
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Thankou so much, Frank. Today is the day when I’ll be looking out for that magpie.
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This is so heavy with sadness ..
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The sibilance of your s-words combined with the weighty w, and dripping d’s add to the pall and sense of grief: they’re heavy. I love the image of the solitary magpie haunting the tree – and that you chose a magpie, as corvidae express grief and ritual after a death in the flock. May you have wonderful memories to color your grief with warmth.
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Thank you so much, Nora.
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