APRIL 8 : Carolynn Rafman
East Coastal Break: Haibun
You need front discs and rear rotors… the mechanic scolds after changing my winter to summer tires… Another warning on top of other financial anxieties but not enough to change my plans to get-a-way.
Day 1:
The next day after picking up my friend we head south down the east coast to Florida. Clear sailing through the U.S. border. Cobalt blue skies over the Adirondack white pine forest.
warming our fingers
with large cups of hot cider
Black Bear Lodge
The first night in the overly heated home of a former marine my sinuses block. To clear my head, I walk the streets of Glen Rock, New Jersey, still brightly decorated with Christmas lights… inhaling cold air. Back inside, he tells us more about rampant PTSD in the armed forces.
Day 2:
Confusion, heavy rain, heavy traffic, wrong turns, shabby hotel options. We collapse at a Days Inn in Dumfries, Virgina. The next morning at dawn:
a hawk
on the roof of my car
morning messenger
Day 3:
Heading down I-95 towards South Carolina under a phoenix-shaped cloud.
I detour through the roadside attraction: South of the Border
reminiscing about family road trips in the 60s and past winters in Mexico.
craving tamales
with a margarita —
mariachis
Way past sunset, Waze directs me through dark streets to our host’s office not her home… Accusing us of stupidity, she dismisses us. At a late-night gas station, I find a local angel who guides us to Beaufort golf haven. We slink through the iron gate. To avoid hostility, I cool off in their hot tub gazing up at Orion’s Belt.
Day 4:
2020… eve of a new decade. The drunk hosts are in bed before midnight. Walking alone under the stars, I stumble into the clubhouse where strangers welcome me to dance country with the Mad Hatters. I wail Auld Lang Syne loudly with fleeting friends.
New Year’s Day
riding a beach bike
I follow my shadow
Day 5:
Landing on Flicker Field in Sarasota inside a peaceful gated community, my worries magnify: worn-out brakes, financial pressures, the rupture at Christmas between my two daughters. What am I doing so far away? I seek the secluded Siesta Key beach. Float with some pelicans. Fill a bag with the whitest finest sand and colourful shells for my grandkids.
restless
under the full moon
a mourning dove
Carolynn Rafman’s second home is in the Eastern Townships around Lake Memphremagog. Now retired from McGill University, she devotes her time to her grandchildren and writing poetry. She lives in Verdun by the St-Lawrence River and is the Quebec representative for Haiku Canada. Her haiku collection outside the zendo was published by Yarrow Press in 2023.