still there.

This the sea, their shadows in madcap deaths; where is the garden beyond the moon, which leaves a ghost that I once knew as myself? I sway between finger and root; small hands desert me in memory

free, I am not the skin
of your lip, tree,
and I am not looking now

to be dead and wink as I’ll see the moon across the flowers and yet with dreams, they are a corking perfume; I would forget from this planet dream. A gleam for a woman unlike the years, I lie in the cruelest despair (not) from my dream, eras nine or more whenever, I’m still there.

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a haibun following the theme of a new beginning or new year.

Seemingly a dark poem, but it’s about my own reflection of letting go from memories and people.




Categories: Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

32 replies

  1. You write the most unique posts!

    Liked by 4 people

  2. This is a haunting piece, Lucy and I like the way you’ve played with the haiku structure a little so everything is unexpected and catches the reader off guard. Love the look of your new site, too!

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I can feel the sense of letting go, but at the same time may be falling apart a little. Unique haibun

    Liked by 4 people

  4. A new blog look, and a poem perhaps less dark than usual….perhaps a letting go? May 2021 bring you all good things!

    Liked by 3 people

  5. A poem of letting go, as you said, and perhaps rising from dreams? This was my favorite line:
    “I am not looking now
    to be dead and wink as I’ll see the moon across the flower”. Beautiful and hopeful, to me, but then I hear the moon humming, so. . .😏

    Liked by 4 people

  6. Another fresh blog look (you & Lisa) I applaud your audacity with the form. Sometimes I place the haiku in the middle, or have 2-3 haiku. We should incorporate style from classic forms, not be enslaved by them. I liked ” I sway between finger and root; small hands desert me in memory.” I always look forward to reading your work.

    Liked by 3 people

  7. Oh the imagery and depth of description 😍

    Liked by 3 people

  8. I’m fascinated by “ I sway between finger and root “ mostly because I don’t know what it means. It’s fun to say though!

    >

    Liked by 3 people

    • Hahaha, thank you Misky! The imagery is just what comes to my mind and what I see. Emotionally, it clicks for me but realistically, it doesn’t. I like to think of it as the sway of leaves and nature changing among doubt while still ambivalent, if that makes sense. I’m glad you enjoyed that line. ❤

      Like

  9. I’m with Misky, I love the image of swaying between finger and root. You are “still there” though I feel as always with your poems, you are a mist in the trees, just barely there, but watching everything with pen in hand! 🖋

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Nicely done Lucy. I am sure this year has made us all take assessment of our mortality. I loved your image of lying in state ….”and I am not looking now

    to be dead and wink as I’ll see the moon across the flowers and yet with dreams,”

    winking as you see the moon shining through the window!

    Liked by 2 people

  11. This pretty much blows me away. I seriously have no idea how you put those words together like that. TBH, it leaves me feeling somewhat poetically challenged 😉

    A lovely, lovely, lovely. poem!

    -David

    Liked by 2 people

  12. I really like the structure of your haibun, Lucy, with the haiku and self-exploration at its heart. I too have swayed ‘between finger and root’. Whose small hands are those that desert in memory?

    Liked by 2 people

  13. It’s intriguing. Since a haibun isn’t fiction, I want to know what it’s about, but all I can do is guess.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. The end of a year is the perfect time for evaluation, letting go, finding new journeys. I enjoyed this haibun. Happy New Year, Lucy.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. “This is the sea, their shadows in madcap deaths;” — WOW. This opening is stunning and it just keeps getting better. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  16. A different approach for the haibun. It is more cryptic than most but I love the language and especially this line…”where is the garden beyond the moon, which leaves a ghost that I once knew as myself?” I visualized this whimsical place of reflection and growth

    Liked by 1 person

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