Things I didn’t notice before

[Lake]

Things I didn’t notice before

 

 

Winding through Central Park, the trails are becoming dim and quiet as a quarter moon hangs pale in the sky. Once in a while, you hear a cheerful “Hello”, or a soft “Excuse us, on your left”, then a bike or two riding past. A line of road lamps already stands on duty, flickering timid yellow light.

 

humbly lowering your head

 your eyes light the darkness ahead 

  a silent guide  

 

A small pond sends forth its moist smell; the alga-bearing water is motionless, embraced by clusters of wild flowers flirting in the summer breeze, even more charming than those well maintained.

 

blue, purple, yellow…

 compete in the afterglow 

  I stop and watch  

 

Across a wooden bridge, a tree of unknown years stands upright, branching out towards the sky. I circle around it, to my amazement there are nine trunks growing out of the same root base, each has the same size as the others.

 

this oak -

 a nine-headed dragon 

  a curse or bliss?  

 

Here and there are signs of restoration in progress: patches of fields are fenced for prairies, fishermen are asked to release catfish and walleye caught from Bennett Lake … Suddenly I come to a halt, in front of me, a deer is chewing leaves by the roadside…

 

a lone doe

 meeting her evokes such joy 

  those tender eyes

[goldenlangur]

Hi Lake,

 

I beg to differ - your haibun is as good as any of the other pieces posted here! A fascinating haibun with several haiku knitting the prose and with an underlying sense of searching. Your prose is lucid and yet quite tight.

 

My favourite is this :

 

this oak -

 a nine-headed dragon 

  a curse or bliss?

  

 

And what a lovely surprise to close your haibun:

 

a lone doe

 meeting her evokes such joy 

  those tender eyes

  

 

 

 

A most enjoyable read and you may well have answered Tony and Aleksandra's haibun and tanka quest

 

 

goldenlangur

[Lake]

Hi Golden,

 

This is my first attempt, I know there are places that are weak. So thank you for your encouraging words. They mean a lot to me. And I'm glad you like the last two haiku. Yes, I'm still searching, you got that right.

 

Much appreciated.

 

Lake

[goldenlangur]

Hi again Lake,

 

You've got the spirit of a haibun and that reflective wandering and wondering in a local landscape is in the company of Basho's haibun and also haibun written by contemporary writers:

 

This is my first attempt, I know there are places that are weak.

Lake

 

Of course there will be parts that one is not satisfied with but for a first attempt this is truly splendid!

 

I hope you will share more.

 

goldenlangur

[tonyv]

Hello Lake,

 

What pleasure to read this haibun! The name Central Park (in the first line) led me to believe that the setting was New York City. And though I held on to that misconception all the way till the last paragraph, something seemed out of kilter. Without the occasional wailing siren to be heard in the background, the setting seemed too serene to be NYC, and the descriptions of the bike path, the pond, and the wooden bridge all seemed to reinforce my conjecture. I found that particular aspect of the read to be intriguing, and there seemed to be some level of comfort obtained from the last paragraph, when it became apparent that my subconscious inferences were correct. The location was in fact elsewhere, perhaps another large city in a more remote location.

 

This line --

Across a wooden bridge, a tree of unknown years stands upright, branching out towards the sky.

-- makes me think of a line from my favorite poem (by my favorite poet, James Wright), called "Twilights": The arbors of the cities are withered. I also like the local reference, Bennett Lake.

 

Tony