A Haibun  



 Daisy-Faces And Me 
 


	Among springtime cameos of sun-turned daisies and long-nosed anthiriums, I wade, 
	long reflections hunting into mind's space, pushing forward faded thoughts as my 
	hand casts over blooms.  That one there is George, petals chomped by caterpillars 
	his bald patch.  He stares up at me and sways in the breeze in the drunken way 
	only George could sway. Another, miniature, hiding deep within the fronds, peeps 
	out, tiny-faced, and lorded over by the blooms that rise above her.  Un-nurtured, 
	shy, she shrinks back from the light, hides behind the glory of other's faces.  
	I miss Tina - why did she have to die so soon … alone? The breeze, as always, blows
	another face across hers, and she is gone.  I strive to see her glimmer of gold in 
	the sunlight, to feel joy at her presence, but the large red face bobs wild, waves 
	and throws her leafy arms across her face.  She shrinks back further and I am forced 
	to confront Pam. So bold, she never thinks of others. So tall, she stands amongst the 
	best, so smug, so in everyone's faces.  
	
				I stand in sunlight
				smiling my hearty success
				for all to applaud

				Others around me wither
				trampled bug-like underfoot

	The blooms recede from Pam's face - her strong stem threatens them all.  Maybe even I 
	had shrunk in her presence. I move away, leave her smiling face, leave Tina in the shadows 
	as I had so long ago. Guilt trails me as I stroke the fine long nose of Gideon - he should 
	never have told such lies. I glance back as the breeze wafts across them, as their faces 
	dance in the crowd.  
	
				Stand tall, my Tina.
				Show your bright face in the sun
				lest you soon be forgotten

	The wind blows chill and I move on, desert them as they deserted me.  But in a slow glance 
	back I see the long thin stems blow over, forced down by the wind.  And there … there amongst 
	the greenery stands a lone, small golden face, its shortness holding it erect against adversity.
	She stares up at the sunlight now, smiling briefly, peace found in this brief moment.  I wish 
	she had found that peace in lifetime.  Maybe things would have been different.  I walk on.

				Goodbye, my children.
				I shall remember you all
				again, tomorrow.



	©   Helen Iles 2003




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