A journal asked for haiku submissions with the traditional 5/7/5 syllable count, and including the Spring word 'tulip.' But it's Autumn in Australia, and I'm not very motivated to submit to journals anyway. However, the word did spark memories of things my late second husband Willem Johan Nissen, known as Bill (my longest marriage; father of my children) told me of his early years in Holland and arrival in Australia.
Photo by Ingrid de Kort, used with permission
pictures of tulips –
my mind flies to that Dutchman
my late ex-husband
tulips and canals
bring recollections of war
and occupation
tulips … tiptoe through
memories of Dutch childhood
during the war years
tulips not mentioned
he whispers tales of horror –
occupied Holland
tulips are not food –
green roadside weeds and grasses
served during the war
the land of tulips –
growing up in a fortress
Naarden's star-shaped walls
tulips or wattles –
arriving at fifteen, soon
a dinkum Aussie
tulips didn’t grow
in the migrant encampment
among metal huts
tulips left behind
along with soccer training,
he tried Aussie Rules
I'm sharing this with Poets and Storytellers United for Friday Writings #119: In Memoriam. It's quite coincidental, and most serendipitous, that I posted the above, which so well fits the prompt, only two days ago.
