The Summer of 1986 (haibun)

I come from work as usual, the dog greeting me at the door. It’s a warm sunny day and we both know what follows: it’s my turn for him to take me out. As we walk along the sidewalk he suddenly pulls towards a patch of grass. I follow him, and there - do I see what I think I see - a four-leaved clover peeking out of the freshly mowed lawn. I've always had the ability to notice things nobody else has: a blossoming weed deep down in the underbrush, a tiny bug crawling into cover, the way sunshine reflects off the leaves... but not the clover, never the clover. I look closer - no mistake, it is indeed a four-leaved clover. In the following weeks I find many more.


her garden
full of unpicked greens
Chernobyl summer