I heard this afternoon that an old friend has just died. I haven’t seen him for many years, but he was a huge part of my twenties, being one of my first husband’s very best mates. He was the sweetest, gentlest and funniest man, and I’ll never forget him, or the side-splitting fits of completely uncontrollable laughter he caused me so many times through those years.
Here is my attempt at a sijo. I scribbled it down after a walk today in my local wood (where I saw a butterfly) before I got this sad news. Wherever it came from, it seems to fit my mood now, in an odd sort of a way.
In the Woods
First warm day; my coat too thick, feeling slightly deranged by heat.
A Brimstone: the butterfly scuppers at me through fine spring air.
Hand rises; to grab its green flight? To catch its heart? To catch mine?