November 10 Haibun

My day starts in the dark. I have my alarm set for 4:45 and I am almost always already awake these days. Punkin is teething and Buddy Boy has nighmares. He comes in my room afraid of monsters, snores for a while and takes my blankets, then wakes up again and goes back to his own bed. Night after night of this routine has worn me to a frazzle. Last night I took my quilt and pillow and went into his room and slept in his abandoned bed. It was the best 6 hours of sleep I have had in a month. There is no alarm in that room so I woke without knowing if I was insomniac or late for coffee.

the cat cries gently
waiting outside the closed door -
clock down the hall

I go down in the cold house and start the coffee, feed the cat and reach for my Bible. I plan to sit for half an hour but often get lost in daydreams and wind up late for my shower. I have started eating Irish oatmeal (gluten free) for breakfast and waking the boys later and later. If they go from bed to me dressing them to a bagel in the car there are no temper tantrums, miraculously. I used to think we should eat together and I endured at least one blow-out over shoes or coats or what to eat....

she stands at the sink -
quiet; dark window; oatmeal;
then wakes the children.

The kitchen is mine and the cat's. By the time I am dressed and ready to start the day-long rush I can see the eastern sky growing rose and gold. Taking a risk at being late for work, I run up to the attic with my camera, trying to avoid the phone lines and traffic lights. The open window brings in cold crisp air and I take several deep breaths.

attic window
above the morning stirring -
lean into the light

Andromeda Jazmon, 2006

Read more about Haibun as a poetic form, and other poet's haibun at One Deep Breath.

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