I felt the day yawn this evening. Stretch itself a little further, a little longer. Shoulder up against the dusk and edge another moment of space for itself, before slipping back beneath the blankets of shadow beyond the train station.
I tell myself it was waiting for me. Finally found a coat warm enough to ward off Winter’s frosty demeanour. Scuffed a booted foot against the concrete pavement, shimmered in the puddles with each sure, step.
Can’t be sure if I’ll see the same tomorrow. Crack open the office doors and find night too close for comfort, the space between bare branches weighed out in shadows. Wonder why she left so soon, if she ever turned up the first time.
Spring slips in shyly,
sets down roots slowly, with care,
when you’re not looking.
Wow, I like that. The opening paragraph is just lovely. I do like your personification of spring here – always surprising!
Thank you Sarah, I’m happier with the first paragraph than the last but it gives me something to come back to
I like the way you describe spring… I imagine her like a shy little girl.
In my mind she was a young woman, but that’s the wonder of imagination
What a lovely consideration of Spring! I savored it.
Thank you Beverly
Incredible prose, makes me yearn for a novel or short story by you. I love the line
/before slipping back beneath the blankets of shadow beyond the train station/.
I’ve written a few short stories on here and I’m currently working on my first novel. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
I’m mesmerized by the flow of your imagery. How delicately you personify the coming day, and Spring! Wonderfully done!
Thank you, I’m so glad you enjoyed it
This is beautiful, Carol. I love the texture the language evokes.
Very nice! It really does slip in slowly. My daffodils were starting to peak through the first of the year and today they started blooming! Loved the puddles and shadows!
How wonderful. I’ve not seen any dafs rounds here yet but I’m looking forward to the return of green
Wonderfully warm personification of spring!
The personification is stunning, Carol: the yawn and the stretch, Nature preparing herself before slipping in slyly, hoping we’re not looking.
Thank you Kim. I found that while I was writing this I had such a clear image of what she would look like. It was wonderful.
How delightful it was to read your haibun, personalising it so well. Humans are not very patient when they would prefer to have the seasons regulated like everything else they get involved in.
To be fair the seasons are pretty regular in the UK. It’s mostly rain, or looks like it might rain.
You are welcome. 🙂
This reminds me of Robert Frost describing his November, a feminine character he called sorrow, I felt each step, each look and nuance of your day that unfolded and gently slipped away, her mark like a misty veil.
Thank you Gina, I’m so glad that the poem managed to draw you in.
Oh my Carol! You’ve outdone yourself with this one! From the opening statements
“I felt the day yawn this evening. Stretch itself a little further,” to the absolutely beautiful haiku….this is just magical for me. Thank you for starting my day out with a smile and wonder.
Thank you Lillian, I’m so happy to hear it started you off on a good note.
Striking first paragraph that sets the tone for a wonderful haibun.
Thank you Linda.
I love the personification, and the scuffing of a booted foot. A delight to read.
Thank you Sherry, I’m glad you enjoyed the poem.
I really like the beginning of this.
“I felt the day yawn this evening. Stretch itself a little further, a little longer.”
each day stretching a little more, elbowing out the darkness just a bit. A lovely poem.
Spring seems to have made quite an entrance this year 🔆🌾