A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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June 2007, vol 3 no 2

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Rafal Zabratynski


The Garden of Childhood

After many years, by sheer coincidence, I've found myself again in the garden which once belonged to my grandma. The place was surrounded by a high dense hedge which separated the garden from the outside world pretty effectively. I used to spend there a lot of time as a kid. I hid my treasures, crept up on cats, fed cross spiders ants, played different games with my friends. This garden was my enclave, microcosm, where I knew every stone, blade of grass, ants' nest or spider's web.

throbbing temples
the mist flows down
the nearby ridges