Starstruck – haibun for dVerse

During lockdown, the weather was beautiful. Long midsummer days of blue skies stretching out, full of walking and reading and lazy conversations. The nights were just as wonderful – clear skies sprinkled with stars, sagging under the weight of so many stars.

We decided to stay up late one night to watch a meteor shower. The aquariids, I think. We took the beach blanket out and lay on the lawn, snuggled in sleeping bags and Dryrobes. There was some wriggling, and some giggling, and a bit of complaining, before we all fell silent, and just watched the sky.

There’s one.

There’s one.

There’s one.

We didn’t see many meteors, it has to be said. But we did spend time outside, gazing up at the sky. The more we looked, the more stars we saw – star after star after star – the Milky Way a band of light arching over our house, reaching towards the horizon. We were very quiet.

so many stars

how could we count them?

we could only gaze.

A haibun for Kim at dVerse. Kim wants us to think about the last time we gazed at nature in awe.

Lockdown/solitude

Sometimes I fly away,
take a perch on a high branch,
a telegraph pole,
look out.

I turn my back
on the messy brood.

Someone’s speaking in halting Italian,
there are wargames and workouts
and sudden bursts of laughter
and the smell of baking
and someone wanders in to chat
and I love it. I’m treasuring these days –
these impossible, improbable,
unexpected days of closeness
that have landed in a time of gentle
distancing. We’re watching movies,
making bread, and talking talking talking.

Sometimes I fly away,
find a high place,
watch the sky.

A poem about solitude in lockdown, for Bjorn at dVerse.