Grief Journey Day + 289

I still hear the echoes of your voice, and sometimes, your laughter. I see all the things your hands have wrought, like the siding on the garage or the steps down to the lake. You knew you were going to die and tried to “get things ready” for me. I guess I knew it, too, but I pressed that knowledge away like a flower between the pages of a book, not something to think about or perhaps look at ever again. The house is so empty without you, so quiet, just rooms in a structure, not a home. I taste your kisses in my dreams. You loved Spring so much, and now it has come in its glory, but you aren’t here. I just can’t enjoy it without you. I can’t make myself get out on our lake. If time is a river, can I dive in and swim, can I find you again?

Spring is here, aching,

The green and gold to show you,

break from the river.

This is my attempt to respond to d’Verse’s challenge

This Memorial Day, let us live the ancient Romans’ “Momemto more” by remembering our beloved dead. Write a haibun in which you offer your remembrance for anyone who has died, whom you love, or with whom you have a connection.

New to haibun? The form consists of one to a few paragraphs of prose—usually written in the present tense—that evoke an experience and are often non-fictional/autobiographical. They may be preceded or followed by one or more haiku—nature-based, using a seasonal image—that complement without directly repeating what the prose stated.

New to dVerse? Here’s what you do:

• Write a haibun that memorializes a loved one, or one with whom you have a connection, as described above.
• Post it on your personal site/blog
• Copy your link onto the Mr. Linky
• Remember to click the small checkbox about data protection.
• Read and comment on some of your fellow poets’ work
• Like and leave a comment below if you choose to do so
• Have fun!

Haibun Monday 5/26/25: Momento Mori