Sunday

 

Sunday declines

down a steep slope that leads home

down an empty street

 

on a Sunday stroll

prim Parisian lace trails

in a ripe dog turd

 

###

This poem was written in response to Carpe Diem #671, Sunday Afternoon, another great prompt hosted by Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, which gave Seurat’s painting “La Grande Jatte” as our inspiration. All of the poems in the link-up can be read here. And, to finish, here’s The Sundays with a song which, aptly, manages to include a lavatory in the lyric –
 

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5 thoughts on “Sunday

  1. Great takes on the prompt — the first has that excellent “Sue Blake” voice, that wonderful word play that works so well in haiku. And the second? Playful — poop-ku! Love it!

    Once upon a time I used to work with historical reenactors. Long story. And the ladies had these gorgeous dresses — and with the era in question, they always had a hem that trailed in the dust. And when you consider the days of horses — and muddy streets, and a more agricultural society, and more soot everywhere — oh my! Can you imagine? Ick. So this really brought a smile to my face. WELL DONE 😀

    • After those links you sent me, and after seeing the dogs cavorting in the painting, well, I couldn’t resist adding some messy realism to the scene 😉

      You’re right, of course, the one thing that history can’t capture is the filth and stench of the past. In London, for instance… http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/tvandradio/8421415/Medieval-London-10-disgusting-facts.html
      :O

      Glad you liked the post, regardless of any malodorous content – one haiku in my voice and one to keep it “fresh”…

      • Keeping it fresh, huh? LOL

        Now THAT was an interesting article. Can you imagine? Ugh. I’m not sure I *want* to imagine. 50 tons of “stuff” a day. Uck.

        Near my old hometown (70s/80s) there was a small tannery about 2 miles away. Sometimes that stench was beyond description. Just awful. Thankfully the “perfume” didn’t reach town too much. (This is the same place I revisited a while back and found the less-than-friendly folk glaring at the outsider (me)).

      • Ah perhaps that’s how they identified you as an outsider – you didn’t have that authentic leather’n’entrails smell about you..? 😦

        Yes, London sounded like an especially grim place to be back then – I’m not even that keen on it now 😛

      • Leather’n’entrails – now that DID make me “LOL” — snort out loud, actually!!!!! 😀

        City life. It’s either in you or it’s not. I like a visit; wouldn’t want to stay. 😦

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