A Pine Tree Wakes

Genesee River, Letchworth State Park, New York

When I wake from my long dreaming,
I first look up at the sky.
Far above me, magic dances in white clouds.
Mother Oak holds me fast, in her roots.
Poetry is the movement of her leaves.
Far below me, the river sings its longing for the sea.

Genesee River, Letchworth State Park, New York

Rivulets sink toward the secret aqueduct far below,
The dark, watery womb of all life.
Some droplets rise to adorn cloud castles.
Singing waters plunge over falls,
Scenting the embrace of Lake Ontario.
Flocks of starlings bank and turn.

Genesee River Falls, Letchworth State Park, New York

Wildflowers thirst, drink the spray,
And tremble on the cliffs.
The leaves feel the passing of the season,
As the water does not. As I do not.
We are constant, the water and the pine.
I hold fast to my cliff; I sink back into my dreams.

Genesee River, Letchworth State Park, New York

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: These photographs were taken at Letchworth State Park, where the Genesee River has carved a deep canyon in its headlong rush to join Lake Ontario, the Easternmost Great Lake, that lies between the US and Canada.

Flash Fiction: River Romance

Mallard Male and Female Ducks

The sun was setting, cherry blossoms perfumed the air, and Esme’s handsome boyfriend, Al, paddled at her side. His fine, green Mallard head feathers looked purple in the waning sunlight. She nibbled on bulrushes.

Sakura, Cherry Blossoms

Nosy daffodils crowded round taking selfies. You’d think it was an award ceremony.

Daffodils, river, fairy tale

Esme would let nothing lessen the magic of the evening. There on the riverfront, she and Al sipped water laden with tasty seeds. The silvery twilight faded, and fairies flickered like fireflies. Al offered Esme a tasty tuber under the Three Birches. She sighed with pleasure.

Birches on the river at sunset

Al raised his wings and drummed the water from happiness. Together they swam figures eights, intertwining their wakes, visible ripples of pleasure. Before Esme returned to her family’s nest on the far bank, her beak brushed Al’s farewell. A door had opened in her heart, perhaps Al would pass through one day.

sun sets on longings
solitary triangle of ripples
rushes bend in winds

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This is my farewell haibun dedicated to Al, but it’s fictional, so I called it a flash fiction in the title. Al has run the weekly Haibun Thinking prompt, which sadly has ended. I hope you don’t mind me making free with your moniker, Al! I am a bit late with my entry, but I was preparing for and attending a writer’s conference. I have to scale back my blogging in May. I will be rewriting my children’s chapter book. Wish me luck! My plan is to blog in the evenings if I have any energy. 🙂



Silver Naiad Reflections

Birch by River Bend

Silver Birch,
Forever dancing,
Wet roots deep, holding fast,
Trunk curved
Toward the far bank,
Always gazing across the way.

Silver Naiad,
Still and thoughtful,
Wet feet, connected to earth,
Body curved
Toward the water,
Gazing always toward Olympus.

Note: This poem is dedicated to Line, a magical being, eyes ever upward, wings brushing our cheeks with joy.