Haiku along Earth’s Sky-Path
by Patricia | 3.30.09by greenfrog
Fall’s day-stars now gleam
Through leafing willow twigs. Spent
Bud-shells crunch on Path.
Cross-posted at In Limine: On the threshold, at the beginning.
by greenfrog
Fall’s day-stars now gleam
Through leafing willow twigs. Spent
Bud-shells crunch on Path.
Cross-posted at In Limine: On the threshold, at the beginning.
March 30th, 2009 at 11:25 am
.
Are Bud-shells spent beer cans?
March 30th, 2009 at 1:31 pm
I love haiku. Very nicely done, and it reminds me of the similarity between spring and fall: the thin branches and new leaves don’t keep back the light as yet, and bud covers are everywhere. Our back yard has a pin oak, and it is only just losing half of its leaves. I glance out the window and see brown leaves flying across the dead grass and I have to check for myself, is it Spring or is it Fall?
March 30th, 2009 at 4:23 pm
.
For the record, I did figure this out about thirty seconds after I posted.
March 30th, 2009 at 9:20 pm
Th.
You have one of the worst cases of nature deficit disorder I’ve ever seen.
Get help!
March 30th, 2009 at 10:09 pm
Th. — weiser, man.
March 30th, 2009 at 10:10 pm
Lora,
The first real sign of spring in Denver where I live is always the oaks’ beginning to drop last year’s leaves.
March 31st, 2009 at 9:29 am
.
P—
I’m planning on heading out to Point Reyes soon. Hopefully that will help.
March 31st, 2009 at 10:33 am
greenfrog, ever try a tanka?
On mornings, late March,
The children rise, rubbing eyes.
“I dreamed they returned,”
They say. “I dreamed hummingbirds.”
Then the first bright bird arrives.
March 31st, 2009 at 10:50 am
greenfrog:
I like the image here of layers of bud husks covering the ground; I think of my run this morning where there were places on the sidewalk where it was all I could do not to crush piles of them and get them stuck to my shoes and drag them through the house.
Spring cleaning, anyone?
* * * *
Th.:
What is with you and buds/but(t)s lately?
* * * *
Patricia:
Now that I think of it, I could have sent you this spring-y haiku. Your tanka reminded me of it (though there subjects aren’t really related beyond maybe flight and the notion of childhood):
i regret blowing
and not blowing
dandelion clocks
March 31st, 2009 at 11:40 am
.
I like that, Tyler.
But I do think you read too much into my three-letter words.
March 31st, 2009 at 12:03 pm
My wife says I read too much into everything.
Go figure.
March 31st, 2009 at 4:32 pm
Now that I think of it, I could have sent you this spring-y haiku.
I think you just did. ;-)
It would be fun to see more of this—folks writing (or at least folding into the comments) poetry in response to others’ verse.
But not verse versus verse.
March 31st, 2009 at 5:33 pm
.
More of a verse plus verse?
March 31st, 2009 at 9:42 pm
I think you just did. ;-)
I did, didn’t I?
(Almost a palindrome…)
It would be fun to see more of this—folks writing (or at least folding into the comments) poetry in response to others’ verse.
I like that idea. Maybe we should start a WIZ renku, something to this effect. (There are two links in this sentence, just FYI; it’s kind of hard to see them the way this text is formatted.)
* * * *
verse plus verse
equals more verse? or is well-versed?
March 31st, 2009 at 9:44 pm
(The links are embedded in “renku” and “this effect.”)
March 31st, 2009 at 10:32 pm
it’s kind of hard to see them the way this text is formatted.)
Yeah, I’ve noticed. I’ve got a few invisible links scattered around this thread myself. (For instance, “nature deficit disorder” above bears a link).
I’ll look into it.
April 1st, 2009 at 11:40 am
Tyler,
I like the image here of layers of bud husks covering the ground; I think of my run this morning where there were places on the sidewalk where it was all I could do not to crush piles of them and get them stuck to my shoes and drag them through the house.
Though I think the language of the haiku is a bit strained, I liked the image of empty bud husks crunching under my feet, and once I accepted that as the primary (starting point, anyway) image, the rest of the haiku sort of came together when I saw Orion through the maple’s branches and realized that if I saw Orion at his night job, it must be spring.
Patrice,
I’m not familiar with tanka forms, though I’ve googled to confirm that it’s a 5-7-5-7-7 structure. Is there a tradition of imagic (non)use with regard to them?
April 1st, 2009 at 4:43 pm
g.f., if you mouse over “tanka” in my comment above you’ll find an invisolink. That’ll take you there.
April 1st, 2009 at 8:11 pm
Unexpected scents
Reach the old dog’s nose. Ears perk.
Brows lift. And his eyes
Open to the unconceived —
Safe, because the door’s ajar.
Lessee what dreams may come.
April 2nd, 2009 at 11:00 am
Rich maple walnut,
Creamy caramel pecan,
Even rocky road.
What are these to the nutty
Divinity of friends’ words?
April 7th, 2009 at 6:21 am
Just to be certain,
The Labrador retriever
Licks rain-worn sandstone,
Tasting its iron redness –
Tongue on stone and stone on tongue.