Vision

I admire my daughter’s vision. After weeks of cooking in a gazebo outside in the garden, carrying bowls of dirty dishes upstairs to the bathroom to wash up, no washing machine, a fridge in the living room, and hardly any space to swing a cat, she is still able to picture her finished kitchen.

There’s no room for me, so I sleep at an Airbnb only a ten-minute walk away, but I spend the days with her – and a variety of workmen, dust and noise. Thankfully, Lucas is at school; he can’t cope with loud noises, but Louie enjoys chatting with the workmen.

I leave them with several more weeks of electricians, plumbers and kitchen fitters, and a vision of a brand-new kitchen.

as the train departs
among a blur of waving
tears smear my glasses

Kim M. Russell, 28^th September 2026

On the first Monday back from visiting my daughter, at the dVerse Poets Pub we are writing haibun about vision with Frank, who says that it is the primary sense we enjoy as human beings.

He reminds us that vision is not only eyesight, but so much more: a vision of who we are, and who we want to be, and I find it interesting that Native Americans of certain tribes participated in Vision Quest ceremonies to determine such clarity for themselves.

Frank has shared examples of what some poets have to say about vision to inspire us to write haibun about what vision means to us: ordinary eyesight; extraordinary perception; the eagle’s glare, whether perched or in flight.