ross la haye, like many a haiku friend we have known across the years, showed up one spring or summer or autumn/winter issue, lingered a few years, left a few notes describing his circumstances, gathered them into a collection like this one (Old Man Press, 1998), and then moved on. This is a perfectly normal process, but of all the normal processes in the haiku world, this is the one that has always struck me with the most sadness. At least in this instance we have a record of the brief encounter.
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Haiku featured in the Book of the Week Archive are selected by Jim Kacian, following a concept first explored by Tom Clausen, and are used with permission.
spring stars my breath obscuring themspring afternoon over the empty parking lot graveldust swirlingspring sunset the cardinal’s descended into descending into itsummer heat digging deeper and deeper and still chinking the buried bricksummer morning on the library floor leaving some rain i’ve taken insummer morning blanketing the river misst the river is