Saturday, March 2, 2013


                                                   CITY SIDEWALK 

Snow on the sidewalk, front and rear steps, the paths around to the back and the trash pit.  Grandpa’s job to clear it. Until he died.  Now it remains, this first snow of winter.

 We stomp through it, trample it down.  Scatter ashes and sand. Manage to make the sidewalk passable, but not for city officials.  A citation and a fine, increasing every day.

With the promise of hot cocoa and donuts, my sister and I hack away. Just the official width, no more, no less.

                                                      snow flying–
                                              the rhythmic scraping
                                                  of Grandpa’s shovel
Modern Haibun & Tanka Prose, Issue 2, Winter 2009

Posted by Picasa


Bill said...

Beautiful, Adelaide. "rhythmic" is the word that does the magic.

Adelaide said...

Thanks, Bill. I hope we've seen the last of the snow for this season.


Warren said...

Terrific haibun, Adelaide - You continue in top form.


Adelaide said...

Thanks, Warren. Pretty soon I'm going to run out of useful memories.


janetld said...

Hi, tried to post something yesterday, but for some reason it didn't "take."

Anyway, great work. I agree about "rhythmic" in the haiku (I also like "flying"). In the prose, the most poignant line to me, in addition to the last one, is this:

Now it remains, this first snow of winter.

Adelaide said...

Thank you, Janet, for your comments. We hated the job, but after Grandpa died, it was our job.


Gillena Cox said...

nostalgic, beautiful, a perfect tribute

much love...

Adelaide said...

Thank you, Gillena