Jo McInerney
Ashcroft Grove
Trees fringe the block. Planted thirty years ago before the house was built. Strategically. Their shadows just brush the veranda in the afternoon.
She watered them from saplings through a thirteen-year drought. He laughed at her for wanting to live in a park.
He left ten years ago. No explanation, only indifference and a quiet malice.
When breezes blow, the trees make the sound of the sea.
easter daisies
at her patio table...
easy laughter
About the Author
Jo McInerney lives in a small country town in southeastern Australia. She writes haiku, tanka, haibun, and short free-form poetry.
Lovely haibun. Feels like the seeds of discord were planted from the beginning. Alas, with love the trees took root.