WAITING (a haibun)

Spending time waiting is never easy, and I notice the small sounds.  Sounds of water running into the washing machine, Rod shifting his ladder as he paints.  I want to carry on with my painting, but can’t settle.  The hum of the fan becomes a background to this heat, and the waiting…

A long time since I was home.  Maybe it’s time to go back.

summer heat
and the phone rings
so far away


A wood pigeon sits on the rail
outside my window,
fat white waistcoat
and iridescent shoulders,
his mind on the Nikau berries
just beyond the edge of the deck.
He’s checking first
to see if we’re inside
and safe.
No sense in taking risks.

The cabbage trees this year
have flowered abundantly.
Old men shake their heads,
‘Going to be a long, hot summer’.
But the cabbage trees
aren’t saying a word.
Only the wood pigeons are counting.

Christmas at the beach
and there’s sand in the sandwiches

© Maureen Sudlow


You’ve probably seen this photo before from me, and don’t forget Antipodes