I remember well, the times we walked our favorite old growth. Most especially that perfect June morning, we trekked deep into that ancient wood, to our favorite spot — our secret clearing. The morning sun filtered softly through the canopy, drifting golden into our sacred space, setting your handsome face aglow. A breeze rustled the treetops, whispering of eternity, casting a spell.
Awed by the splendor, we talked quietly, leaning on the downed Douglas that slumbers there, perhaps centuries, peaceful in its earthen repose. You were eighteen, off to college soon, so excited! I was so in awe of you son.
In that moment, time suspended, life aligned for a perfect memory — my very last of you. Three weeks later you were tragically killed. This memory is left here under the forest canopy, in our clearing, where my heart still journeys — to talk with you.
I will leave in my winter
our clearing awaits
rob kistner © 2020
* This month is my son Aaron’s birth month. He has been vividly on my mind.
To check out more poems at dVerse: CLICK HERE
I know I should say something more than “Awww…”, but…
Thank you Ron.
Damn, brother, you brought me to tears–so visceral and heartfelt, sad and beautiful, powerful emotions, superb word-smithing; Kudos & hugs!
I love Aaron deeply and will always miss him. My tears keep his memory vitally alive for me Glenn.
{{{{HUGS}}}}
{{{{{LOVE}}}}}
A beautiful and sad heartfelt expression of love of nature and even more love for one another! So sorry for your loss Rob!
Thank you Dwight…!
Beautifully written! 🙂
Thank you…!
A very strong sense of place, tinged with tragedy, which makes it more poignant. Well done.
Ghank you Francis… 🙂
Oh Rob, I felt the love and grief in your haibun. Thank you for sharing a precious moment with your son. The clearing must be wonderful, with the morning sun filtering through the canopy, and so magical. I have tears.
Aaron and I discovered just how much we both profoundly love the natural world, years ago on a trip to the redwoods. I cherish that particular connection with him.
I am so sorry for your loss. Beautiful words you have written and I admire you for writing them. You made me cry. I’m sure that clearing awaits you both.
My memories of my son are primarily uplifting, but sometimes I want to scream, and so I write to cry and touch the intensity of my love for him. He, like I do, loved the beauty of the natural world.
So heartbreaking. Hugs. ??
Thank you Lucy. My memories of Aaron are primarily warm and wonderful. But November brings forward my deeper sense of loss. I cherish his place in my life, and still in my heart.
I simply cannot leave the image you shared … it must be Oregon. A beautiful haibun. Cheers, Rob.
Thank you Helen…
Oh. . .all the feelings here, Rob. That secret special clearing–
“In that moment, time suspended, life aligned for a perfect memory — my very last of you.”
I’m so sorry, Rob. I can’t imagine. Hugs.
It has been a number of years since I lost him Merril. Most of my memories are warm wonderful memories of him. However, his birth month of November stirs some sad memories. Every now and then I need to write them out. It’s a catharsis for me.
How very very heartbreaking, but how precious that last sweet memory must be.
So previous Bjorn. I have held it fast and dear.
I am so sorry for your loss 🙁
I appreciate that Sanaa.