Haiku for a Quiet Woman

A boisterous wind skirls

consoling hymns drift skyward

one voice laid to rest

I didn't even know my friend had been diagnosed with cancer, so the news of her death hit me hard. Her death came more quickly than anyone had anticipated and she was young--by today's standards--only a few years older than I am.

My last interaction with her was working on a cobweb gauze scarf at Castlehill. We were down on our hands and knees laughing and working with the soft wool. She wanted her scarf to be all one colour. I was suggesting she could add colours, but she insisted on the one colour. She knew what she wanted, and, when done, it was breathtakingly beautiful. The pleasure of it made her glow. I thought to myself I look forward to getting to know her better. And then the email saying she was dead.

I sang as well as I could for the second hymn, "All things bright and beautiful," as my best goodbye to Christine. I'll bring flowers to Castlehill in the colour of that scarf.