September rolls around like a pumpkin, like a pumpkin on a skateboard careening round the corner past the tail-end of August, catching me off guard every year, and I’m knocked off my feet and on to my keester, a pile of leaves cascading around me, muffling the laughter of neighborhood children.
blackbirds call – in the yellow orange light a morning shines chill and pure
It’s the memories that leave me agape more than the innumerable pumpkins, the shedding trees and goblin children already looking forward to October and All Hallow’s Eve. So many crowd into the season’s turn, old faces smiling from the theater screen of autumn’s cerulean sky, busy with the doings of a golden declarative moment. Yet one stands out.
a half-remembered song – a black-limbed tree of blackbirds scatter in the wind
My Indian parents arriving in New York with six-year-old me in hand with silk Singapore jackets on our backs from a well-traveled in-law and my mother walking home with groceries and fainting on the sidewalk from hypothermia in a freak snowstorm. Nothing quelled her spirit though. Ever. Her Christian faith was unshakeable. Besides, we were in America, land of freedom, land of dreams, land of promise. Later a church fixed us up with proper coats and my mother’s face emerged regal as a queen’s out of an oversized pumpkin-orange coat, wearing her red sari, gold-threaded border in folds, daring fashion, daring my smile.
under palm trees a new grave – blackbirds carve silhouettes in September
My mother died eight years ago this month.
It's Haibun Monday and guest host Xenia Tran invites to write about a special moment experienced this month with a word count under 250: "The prose can be narrative, lyrical or terse and the ku can be either a three-line haiku or a monoku (haiku in a single line)." Click here to join in.
Dreams from a Pilgrimage 
Love the scents and smells of your autumn stories. The family’s arrival in the USA and your mom’s regal outfit, is my favorite. Your monoku are outstanding with the blackbirds imagery. We share a death anniversary this month – prayers to your family!
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Such a powerful piece. Reads so well and is infused with strong emotion..
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And to yours, Grace, thank you.
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Wonderful in every way! 🤗❤️
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What a moving poem Dora and a lovely tribute to your mom.
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This is very powerful. What an experience with your mother coming to the USA. Appreciate this very much Dora
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I love that, Dora: ‘September rolls around like a pumpkin’, which I will remember! I enjoyed the blackbird monoku scattered through your prose, and the paragraph about your arrival in New York gave a clear snapshot of hard times turned good.
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A beautiful and deeply moving haibun Dora, I love the way the month rolls around like a pumpkin and into the colours of your mother’s coat. Thank you so much for joining us 🧡
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A wonderful tribute poem to your mother, Dora. She must have been quite a woman. It must have been quite a shock to change countries at such a young age.
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How vivid are our childhood memories. Thank you for sharing yours and for loving the Lord and this country as I do. ❤
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Dora, your September Haibun is beyond beautiful … sharing so much of yourself … interspersing haiku brilliantly. I send peaceful healing … your Mother’s passing so recent. My mother passed in 2007, I still think of her daily and every yellow butterfly I see .. is her. We have many here in Central Oregon during Spring, Summer and Fall.
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Wow, you set the stage with such brilliant, unique imagery in those first lines and then lay out so beautifully a very touching story that honours your mother and your heritage. This is wonderful, Dora.
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I really love the way you weaved that story of your mother, your arrival to a country so different, and of course of your mother’s death
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the description of the arrival is rich in details and how touching.
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“red sari”❤️ You know, Dora, I love to wear sari even when I travel abroad. I love this. The story of many a immigrants. Beautiful writing and a moving tribute. ❤️
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Dora, I simply LOVE this haibun tribute to September memories…and your brave mother!
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just loved how this is woven…it is beautiful and powerful…
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I loved reading this, Dora. The wonderful detail in your prose and the ever present blackbird imaged haikus. Beautiful tribute.
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