It was the same village
The same hotel and
The same meal (sausage and chips)
But she wasn’t there:
Had I been trying to bring her back? I wonder now as I think back
I can’t even remember how old I was
No more than ten or eleven
She died when I was eight
Drowned in the river
The same river of that same village where
We ate our birthday tea in that hotel
Sorry I couldn’t
Bring you a soothing cheerful
Birthday party tale
I wasn’t unhappy at the time, just chasing memories:
R.I.P.s
My heart remembering it now.
Written for the dVerse prompt: Haibun on a memorable birthday.
To connect with others dealing with grief and bereavement, I recommend the following blogs:
Experiments in Fiction 
💜
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“Had I been trying to bring her back? I wonder now as I think back” I think you know the answer to your question. My condolences to you in the loss of your loved one.
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Thank you for your kind words.
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You are welcome.
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I think we long for everything to be the “same” again as we grieve. The repetitiveness in your poem captures that feeling. A very sad and moving haibun.
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Thank you. It made me sad writing it but perhaps sometimes we need to acknowledge our sadness.
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Nicely written.👌
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Thank you!
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such a heartfelt and heart stirring piece. my condolences.
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Many thanks 🙏
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Your haibun is so full of sorrow, Ingrid. Going back to the same hotel, village and river must have been incredibly hard to do. I’ve not read a haiku that said sorry before – it’s poignant even without the prose to explain what happened, and I was expecting at least one sad birthday tale. I am so sorry for your loss, the grief never goes away, but we understand it better as we get older. Writing about it is a helpful balm. .
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It certainly is! Thank you for your kind words. I find writing incredibly soothing and healing. At the time of the party, I think I was still numb from the loss. Over time you come to confront it and then come to terms with it, as best you can.
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The simplicity of the language and of the imagery only brings the honesty closer to the heart.
A beautiful piece, Ingrid xo
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Thanks Nick – sometimes this stuff just comes out. I think it has to, every now and then.
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True xo
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This is so clear, lucid and sad. No breast beating, tearing of hair, just the dull, unanswerable questions. beautiful work. I hope it helps to sooth the sadness.
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Thanks you so much 😊 sometimes it does!
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:)
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