Haibun: St Thibery


Our house is tall. Bedrooms tuck in corners off a curving staircase up three floors.

When you come striding along the station platform I hug you and grab your backpack to carry. We’ve been living in different countries for too long.

We sleep, work on a huge jig-saw puzzle, you make a chocolate cake. We talk and talk.

One night at bedtime you come into my room, eyes shining,

‘Mum, do you want to have a sleepover in my room tonight? I’ve made up the other bed for you.’

I go up the next flight of stairs. In the room, lamplight, two little red-covered beds turned back, the window curtain fluttering.

Without thinking, I refuse.

Still the knife of memory twists in me.


after midnight

owl’s cry

light at six


last night’s sunset

a blessing

otters at play

15 thoughts on “Haibun: St Thibery

    1. You have a wonderful memory. That was a while ago now. I have cut it a bit, for the better I think. Don’t you find it always works like this?
      I wonder how Allegra is now, sigh…

  1. I remember lying in my bed, hearing the night noises and feeling happy for all the time we’d had together in that funny tall house.

    1. Hi — sorry to not respond sooner. Traveling in the Midwest. I was corresponding with Mark at writers.com earlier in the summer, and he said that he’d had some tenuous contact with Allegra. He held out a slim hope that she might teach again and I said that he could count on me as a student. You too, sounds like. Did I already say this? Thanks — yours in the seventeen syllable life —

    1. It’s funny how they dig up these random accompaniments to one’s posts. had almost forgotten this. Seems like another life away. Will check out that journal

      1. Ah — so it’s the website that selects the earlier posts to direct the reader to? I was happy to see it again. I’ll send you the new haibun journal information.

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