I went from white womb to buttery rectangular living. A corn-colored carpet, below a honey countertop, with a cut glass ashtray like a hive, my mother’s flaxen fingernails tap, taps, tapping her smoke rising, garland around our Christmas tree. The multi-color lights blink, blinks, blinking behind tingly tinsel. Quiet evenings, my sister pull, pulls, pulling my daffodil dress. She never wanted me to learn to walk, but through the window I can see a dijon drain that drip, drips, dripping water on the gravel driveway. All white stones in this neighborhood. And they crunch, crunches, crunching under the steps of my father’s boots home from the night shift just in time to give us a smile and catch a banana sunrise. It was some people’s vacationing, but it was my home.

One thousand square feet;
every rectangle’s the same
just a larger womb.

Artwork Mobile Acres Lane by Joyce M Jacobs

This piece was written for d’Verse’s Monday Haibun challenge. Lillian tasked us with writing into our earliest memories, without using photos or stories told to us, and then crafting a Haibun.

A HAIBUN IS:  1 to 3 succinct prose paragraphs that must be a true accounting, not fiction, followed by a haiku (three lines, 5-7-5 syllables, that includes a seasonal reference and has a direct or subtle relationship to your prose paragraphs, without condensing or summarizing them). This time you do not necessarily have to follow the Japanese tradition of including a kigo or kireji in your haiku. If you’d like to strictly follow that Japanese tradition, look back at my dVerse New Year’s Haibun prompt on January 4th this year for an explanation of those terms.


  1. This line has a punch to it. ” It was some people’s vacationing, but it was my home.” And then the haiku….adds a lot. Your use of different shades of the color yellow in your choice of words….and the repetition. It’s like your memories are chasing each other….stream of consciousness writing the memories that pop in your head. Growing up in a trailer would be quite different from my growing up in a house. The additional detail of your father coming home from working the late shift and giving a smile….as well as your choice of words like “daffodil” and banana sun tell me there was love here. These are memories making you smile. 🙂 They make me smile. Thank you for sharing!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Björn. The sounds on the roof were intense, snow, ice, animals. We moved when I was little as my other sister was on the way. 1,000 square feet not going to cut it.


  2. Interesting to me that most of the memories I’ve read so far go back to rather simple beginnings. My husband and I raised two children in our 1000 sq ft, one bathroom pre-fab house! Enjoyed your haiku too!

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  3. Shapes, colors, smells, your poem is a sensory extravaganza. As a small child we pay a lot more attention to them because they’re new, I think. The repetition really works well in this and further lifts the words into 3D life. The sister pulling on your dress and your dad’s affectionate homecoming elevate it even further. Beautiful!

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  4. An evocative piece of writing rounded off with a great haiku! I remember staying in my uncle’s caravan over the summer, and I loved it, but I’m sure it could feel cramped if it was all year round.

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  5. OMG. I don’t think I can count how many things I love about this haibun… including the sound effects, the colors, the.. just everything. It really felt like seeing the world through the eyes of a child!


    Liked by 1 person

  6. I like this. It reminds me so much of a book I loved when I was a child about a girl growing up in Australia, moved around with her parents in a trailer and how she dreamed of having a ‘real’ home like other kids. I thought she was mad…

    Liked by 1 person

      • My parents told me I once hid for hours under the piano and they had the police and the fire brigade out searching for me. I remember nothing about it at all. Shame probably 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      • Oops, this reply was to another comment! Sorry. I’ve just been searching for the name of the book that I loved so much. Seems to have more or less sunk without trace. The House that Guilda drew, if you’re interested 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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