Another poem for Jilly’s collection. This one is a haibun.

“Like many poets I’m part blackbird and part red squirrel and my brain chatters, shrieks, and whistles.” ~ Jim Harrison


Through the many-coloured world, spangled and speckled, and scented with the red and blue notes of rose and rosemary and the fresh green of mint, I wing sometimes, or tread the long swaying grass. Always at my side, water runs, and when the river is far away, rain sparkles in the gutter, ditch water cocoons frog ballets, and the ocean of the sky smiles in white waves.

Treasures strew every path, pebble smooth or hooked and barbed with berry flowers, moon pale in the streambed, purple as night water in the meadow grass. From the shade, cool and deep, bright eyes watch, timid, fire-furred, while I thread cow parsley and bindweed into crowns. And when the sun slips behind the poplar trees and their long shadows fill the meadow, I hold my breath and let the blackbird’s song fill my smooth pebbles with summer.


Bird alarm chatter,

red streak corkscrews round the tree—

my too heavy tread.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

12 thoughts on “Treasures”

  1. I felt like I was being taken on a walk with you – the imagery is crisp. I especially like the scents and the frog ballet in the ditch. You also evoked a forgotten memory of making little crowns with clover (I think) as a child. Glad you came along on this one!

    1. The field is full of bindweed in a beautiful pale pink that I always think would be perfect in a crown. We used daisies when I was little, but you need a lawn for those. I’m very much enjoying this trip 🙂

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