The Līgo Haibun Challenge is hosted by Ye Pirate and Ese.
This week’ we can choose one of two prompts, and I have chosen:
“And then there are the times when the wolves are silent and the moon is howling.” ― George Carlin
Please do go and check out the other entries by visiting the co-hosts’ blogs and finding the InLinkz linky thing! There are some very talented writers out there… I will visit each and every one as soon as I can!
*****
– Tilt –
The twelve days were blistering in their heat. Days when, if normality had reigned, if nothing had changed, if life had continued in its usual pattern, I would have been encased in an office, shaking my fist whilst summer launched itself with fierce abandon.
But this year, normality tilted. In the great scheme that life has for us, nothing of note took place. And yet our family was filleted like a slab of meat falling prey to the butcher’s knife.
We took our turns in that small room, hoping, praying, wishing for the miracle that would not come. And so we watched you leave us, by second, by minute, by hour, by day, by night.
The last day arrived. The last morning, noon, afternoon and evening. I knew. I could tell. How could it be anything other than the end now?
I spent some time – after – standing at the window with my back to you, holding myself tightly, staring at the ghosts of bushes and shrubs silhouetted in the gloom, feeling the summer breeze raise the hairs on my arms. Dusk – the between time. Reflecting the limbo in which I had now been thrust. The world should have imploded, and yet – it did not.
your resonance lingers
speaking volumes in my heart
summer eternal
Freya Writes... 
Reblogged this on Thoughts while on Forest Walks.
Thank you for the reblog.
Gosh what a powerful piece of writing. The way you lead us to feel something of the emotions you went through without ever emoting or getting melodramatic is so restrained and effective. The phrases ‘holding myself tightly, staring at the ghosts of bushes and shrubs silhouetted in the gloom, feeling the summer breeze raise the hairs on my arms’ leaves me gobsmacked. While writing about everyday things like shadows in the bushes and a cool breeze you are actually speaking of far more profound matters. Brilliant writing.
Thank you, Suzanne. I am so pleased that you appreciated the way I wrote this. I think my dad would have approved.
Very elegant, I agree with Suzanne about leading us through..without the melodrama…
Thank you, Nicole.
This is so strong and emotionally touching, with every sentence lingering in the air, though the power of grief and sadness is present. Feeling your words, wanting to stop the time passing between the hands of the ticking clock…
I agree with Nicole – it is very elegant, Freya..
Thank you so much, Ese.
I am sorry I didn’t get back here earlier. We came into your haibun at full throttle, with tension high, and you drove us through your words with the tension at the same level all the way through, yet you controlled your piece impeccably, never increasing the dose too much – the Tilt was a masterful example of that, instead of using a more dramatic word with less power. We felt the pain and sincerity in the careful rhythm of your words, sentences, and as I said, the tension was there but never broke. You kept us with you.
I agree,truly brilliant and very sincere writing, that paid a lot of attention to the reader, even in such a personal trauma.
Thank you so much. It reflects how things felt at the time – not at all dramatic, even though it was the most excruciating period in my life that I have experienced. Strange.
“The works should have imploded and yet it did not” – very beautiful and heartbreaking – framed by the ability to stand outside the pain and to wonder. A tremendous piece of writing.
Thank you so much.
beautifully written – heartbreaking moment felt intensely
Thank you, Sun.