Amanda Bell
Holiday Home
Within 24 hours of arriving, every single time, I have a tantrum. Because the place is completely overgrown, because we can’t get into the polytunnel without a machete, because there’s a pile of fermenting grass blocking the entrance to the woodland, because it would be one thing trying to do this with full-time staff, because my wrist hurts, because we’re never going to be able to keep on top of it now, because we’ll be leaving the kids with a millstone around their necks. But what I really mean is, what would I possibly do if anything happened to you?
far off twittering—
have the swallows forgotten
where they used to nest?
About the Author
Amanda Bell is an Irish poet and writer. Her most recent book, Riptide, is a collection of poetry, haibun, and haiku, published by Doire Press (September 2021). She is an assistant editor of The Haibun Journal and judge of the haibun category in the British Haiku Society Awards for 2022. Find more at www.clearasabellwritingservices.ie.
This haibun shows how one small scene can carry as much emotional weight as an entire play. I see the title as prologue and the haiku as a kind of epilogue. . .
Love this one, Amanda!
Thanks, Roberta!
Beautifully woven like a bird’s nest Amanda. Time for you both to fly off?
I loved this haibun. The parallelism of “because”…the specificity and verve of each factor…the rhythm of the drive of the writing, which is throwing its own ranting tantrum…and then the emotional surprise and shift of the final sentence. Very moving. And the haiku was beautiful–one of the most artful 5/7/5 haiku I’ve read in a long time, and such an apt and artful shift from the prose (with the swallows so feelingly representative of and connecting to the couple). Wonderful work!