It’s Haibun Monday over at the dVerse Poets Pub. This time, Lillian would like us to take a walk down Memory Lane: “…Force yourself into memories not in photographs; not already written down or told to you by others. Let’s see what we get! You’ll probably jot down more than what you use in your haibun. You may even decide to extend the time, being surprised by what comes to mind!”
Joanne and I became best friends from the moment our mothers (who were also best friends as well as neighbors) placed us in the same playpen. For seven years we played with our Barbies, delightfully without that stupid Ken, ran through sprinklers, took ballet class together, and started school. Then, during the summer between third and fourth grade, my family moved 1,030 miles away, to Denver. The day we packed up the car and left, Joanne and I waved goodbye, me from the rear window of our Plymouth Belvedere, and her from the end of her driveway. As our car made the left turn onto Oakton Street, I saw Joanne run back into her house.
My most precious friend
Didn’t know life without her.
She is my home. Still.