It’s summer. We go to enter the back door of my grandparents house. I remember a tree in the middle of the yard with pink impatience circling the trunk. We had to take our shoes off at the door in the kitchen to keep the home tidy. There was a piano in the dining room behind the table where we shared meals. A TV sat on the floor in the living. I remember grandpa lying in front of it watching the screen until sleep took over. Behind him was a couch covered with a sheet to protect it.
From there you could go out the front door or turn to go upstairs. The stairs lead up to the bedrooms and a bathroom with a huge tub (or so it seemed to me at the age of 4 or so). However, I especially remember the front porch. I remember sitting out there. It was shaded from summers rays by blinds that would blow back and forth with the wind. There were red geraniums growing in pots. It was like a hideout until the mailman showed up. I thought it was so neat that the mailman walked right up to the porch and placed the mail in a black box attached to the porch post.
Blooms aflame reaching
Golden streams filtering through
Lillian is hosting Haibun Monday at dVerse, and she has asked us to take a walk down memory lane. We are to try to recall memories that are not provoked through pictures nor stories told. With these memories, we were to write a Haibun.
Lillian stated that a Haibun is: 1 to 3 succinct prose paragraphs that must be a true accounting, not fiction, followed by a haiku (three lines, 5-7-5 syllables, that includes a seasonal reference and has a direct or subtle relationship to your prose paragraphs, without condensing or summarizing them).
Thanks for reading,