Lynn Edge
Ephemeral
My brother calls and invites me to share Thanksgiving dinner with his family. They are celebrating on the Saturday after the actual day.
“All my kids and grandkids are coming. We have plenty of food and want you to come.”
“You know I am having dizzy spells and can’t drive.”
“Josh will come get you. It will be no trouble at all.”
I hear the wistfulness in his voice and know he hopes I will say yes. We have not been on good terms in the last few years because of a disagreement about a ranch we inherited.
bare
mesquite branches
along the fence line
the gate swings
shut
Why don’t I say yes? They don’t expect me to bring any food, just to come, and his son will drive the eleven miles to pick me up. Yet I hesitate. What if I become dizzy and someone has to bring me home early? Plus, I don’t feel up to being around his four adult children, their spouses, and seven grandchildren.
I have no way of knowing by the next fall my only brother will be dead and I will never have the chance for a conciliatory dinner with him.
the rumble
of a rusty cattle guard
I wonder
who will cross it
next
About the Author
Lynn Edge lives in a small Texas town. She has written haibun since 2002 and has been published in journals such as contemporary haibun online and Frogpond, as well as in the contemporary haibun anthology series. Her book of haibun, Unsaddled, was published in 2022 by Red Moon Press.