The vibrant colors of Autumn and Spring are a delight to behold, are they not? Frank Tassone, here, & I’m delighted to host another Haibun Monday, where we blend haiku and prose poetry into that unique form known as haibun! Today, let’s bask in the seasonal kaleidoscope found on both sides of the Equator. Let’s talk about Fall foliage or Spring blossoms!

Here on the front end of New York’s Backyard, the Fall foliage season just begins. I saw a burst of red, orange, and yellow from some of the trees lining my neighborhood’s Boulevard. Further upstate, foliage is at, or approaching, its peak, delighting the leaf-peepers that have sojourned there for the occasion.

While I’ve not personally witnessed Spring blossoming in the southern hemisphere, surely it must be a wonder of its own, right?

In either hemisphere, there is a feast of colors to observe and savor.

Certainly, some haijin have done just that:

John Zheng

Mid-October in the Smoky Mountains

We drive to see the fall foliage, but the cascades of color look as dull as a small town’s faded murals. At an overlook, an old couple tell us that it’s because there hasn’t been enough rain during the year. Then, for two days, thunderstorms and lightning confine us to the resort. We sit in balcony chairs, watch dark clouds somersaulting. When the storms slacken, we go to see the Harrisburg Covered Bridge. Each of its cut-out windows frames the same view: lines of rain and wisps of mist slanting in wind.

black sky—
hiding in a
white wooden church

On the day of departure, blue sky returns. We wind west on the Little River George Road, from Gatlinburg to Cades Cove. Along the way, we stop to shoot pictures of everything we can: a watermill churning by a creek, a fenced historic graveyard, a replica of a pioneer log cabin. Above the muddy river, red, gold, yellow, and orange sparkle in the morning sunshine.

photo after photo
the creek gurgling
all night long

Contemporary Haibun Online 16:1 April 2020

Robert Whitmer

Cherry Blossoms

Spring has come. The cherry trees are puffed out in pink pride, their blossoms trembling in the breeze over the laughter of the happy family below, enjoying hanami, the older ones with their saké and the younger ones squealing for sweets. 

Even as the blossoms swell to fullness, the trees lose their grip on the petals, which, one by one and then in clouds, pirouette to the ground, where they lie in scented carpets. Beneath one of these trees, a child with a toy truck scoops a bed of blossoms as he sings a tune about wheels going round and round.

He switches off the video. One of those happy drinkers has passed away. It was so many springs ago he lost that yellow truck. Now he knows why the older ones laughed when they drank, and why, perhaps, they drank.

The pink blossoms are back, and it is hanami once again. It won’t be long—before the aging trees lose their grip.

my late mother’s birthday
cherry blossoms
choke the stream

Drifting Sands, Issue 23

Indulge in the seasonal colors today. Write a haibun that alludes to either Fall foliage or Spring blossoms.

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 is what you do:

• Write a haibun that alludes to Fall foliage or Spring blossoms.

• Post it on your personal site/blog.
• Include a link back to dVerse in your post.
• 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!