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Haiku Dialogue: Poet’s Choice, Brevity

 

Welcome to the Poet’s Choice series, hosted by guest editor Craig Kittner.

Posted below are the submissions for the theme of brevity. For this series, the haiku appear in the order in which I received them.

Our next theme is 5-7-5.

This structure of three lines – with five syllables in the first line, seven syllables in the second line, and five syllables in the third line – has fallen out of fashion among most contemporary writers. However, there is no denying its importance in the development of English language haiku.

Brevity is a fine tool, but brevity as an end goal is limiting. Honing the skill to express a haiku experience in a rigid, more lengthy structure can increase your versatility.

For inspiration this week, let’s take a look at a haiku by O Mabson Southard, from a collection of his work titled Deep Shade Flickering Sunlight, published by Brooks Books:

One breaker crashes . . .
As the next draws up, a lull –
and sandpiper cries

Think about how the 5-7-5 structure influences the way you read this haiku. Consider, too, how the haikuist maintains an economy of language within the lengthier structure.

Now let’s get traditional!

Send one original, unpublished, 5-7-5 haiku (5 syllables in the first line, seven syllables in the second line, and 5 syllables in the third line) via our Contact Form by Saturday midnight, and it will be included in next week’s blog. (If you send more then one, only the first one will be posted). Include your name as you would like it to appear.

 

Here are the submissions for Brevity:

sunrise
opening my
intuition

Lakshmi Iyer

 

returning
from sick leave
tea-stained cup

Rehn Kovacic

 

blackbird’s song
I ignore
nearing death

Aljoša Vuković

 

dad’s soft touch calluses

john hawkhead

 

autumn
warm colorful
sunset

Tsanka Shishkova

 

reunion…
wider
hugs

Pris Campbell

 

stalling
again
new moon

Shloka Shankar

 

narc(I)ss(I)st

Jackie Chou

 

windstorm
the weight
of your words

Olivier Schopfer

 

life
born
to die

Stephen A. Peters

 

pickled ginger slice of life

Robin Anna Smith

 

flowers
of evening
greenflies

Guliz Mutlu

 

shifting –
only memories
with you

Radhamani sarma

 

waiting on
gas station …
coffee

SD Desai

 

honeycomb
ants suddenly
piggish

Marietta McGregor

 

your hand
around
my heart

nancy liddle

 

night Train
long whistle
teardrops

Neni Rusliana

 

looking forward
to
angel’s wings

Patrick Gallagher

 

on autoplay the birdsong

Vandana Parashar

 

socks’ smell
in the  rain –
subway

Margherita Petriccione

 

brook –
sky through
the field

Tomislav Maretić

 

deep autumn
the trees lose
their voices

Lucy Whitehead

 

rain
tiptoes
to chrysalis dream

Neelam Dadhwal

 

midnight
a thunder destroys
the tree

Slobodan Pupovac

 

tiger
approaches
from the frame

Susan Bonk Plumridge

 

mountain waterfall mouthwash spit

Mark Gilbert

 

cancer…
in stillness
stars rise

Steve Tabb

 

cherry blossoms
mimicking
butterflies

Sherrod Taylor

 

Milky Way
the wake
of fireflies

Angela Giordano

 

cicadas –
the profile
of shadows

Giovanna Restuccia

 

stone
upon stone
my father’s house

George Hinton

 

Spring
happy tractor
hums

Susan L. Roberts

 

into its whistle speeding train

Adjei Agyei-Baah

 

stone thrower
the sun
ripples

Robert Kingston

 

song for birth
and for death
silence in between

Dubravka Šćukanec

 

shooting stars
dark night
sighs

Lemuel Waite

 

brevity
levity
all I ask

Bruce Jewett

 

saguaro
no drip
system

Paul Geiger

 

knothole
deepening
annihilation

Hifsa Ashraf

 

squirrel
rests
long way down

Kathleen Mazurowski

 

the same knot
in the handkerchief –
anniversary

Ezio Infantino

 

summer mirage
emerging from
asphalt

X3+us the Whale

 

cicadas
sing
…nevermore

joel

 

Easter
postcards
with rabbit

Ljiljana Dobra

 

an old hand
his whiskers
quiver

clysta seney

 

junkyard morning
collections
of snow

Garry Eaton

 

two wolves
changed the valley
river too

Saša Slavković

 

denialism
ridi pagliaccio

Sanela Plisko

 

a mouse
at my party
girls scream

Franjo Ordanic

 

moonlight
broken dreams
on the rocks

Elisa Allo

 

words of grief
what
can I carry?

Alfred Booth

 

a vision
in white . . .
plum blossoms

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

 

bathtub–
exchange of
baby smiles

Pravat Kumar Padhy

 

buzzing
rattlesnake!
footfalls stop

Al Gallia

 

ducks dip
into clouds
lakeside daydream

Sandra Ellerbeck

 

on our eleventh date rape

Lori A Minor

 

gardening
my silent partner
a hummingbird

Dean Okamura

 

her life
as we saw it
mountain fog

Mark Meyer

 

first nation
somewhere distant
a loon’s wail

Ingrid Baluch

 

last kite flew
out of site
twilight

Aju Mukhopadhyay

 

tree work
sparrows
unboughed

Laurie Greer

 

late fall years
kinder
than earned

Tim Heaney

 

his lean teen look chemo

Greg Longenecker

 

rock limpet
the grip
of grief

Martha Magenta

 

chrysalis
wet wings
waiting

Ann Rawson

 

our sun
from out there
just a star

Peggy Hale Bilbro

 

Faded eyes
still shine
with love

Margaret Cole

 

darkened room
the tears
of one

Isabel Caves

 

the wind
and i
whistling

Madhuri Pillai

 

south wind
wildflowers
dance

Barbara Tate

 

bikini
tighty whitie
briefs

Gigi’s Magic

 

Nope
I hope
but I do

Trilla Pando

 

rain dear…

Adrian Bouter

 

rainbow
she fades
into mist

Agus Maulana Sunjaya

 

Art Longa
and Vito Brevis
walk into a bar…

Charles Harmon

 

still calling
your name –
cuckoo bird

Cristina Angelescu

 

a desire…
daisy
petals

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

 

in the nest . . .
a fledgling
missing

Taofeek Ayeyemi (Aswagaawy)

 

yellow leaf
full of memories
summer

Zdenka Mlinar

 

fog
a boat
surfaces

Joanne van Helvoort

 

daylight. . .
the empty space
of a dream

carol jones

 

say
no less
no more

Ron Scully

 

crescent moon
clouds
molded

Tomislav Sjekloća

 

student overachieving orbit

C.R. Harper

 

sighs
the night
sky

Nadejda Kostadinova

 

campfire
sparking
memories

Ronald K. Craig

 

beneath
the surface
moon jellies

Ruth Powell

 

moonshine
still
hidden

Margaret Walker

 

rip currents
drowning
in debt

Nancy Brady

 

the swoop
of bat wings
sundown

Joan Prefontaine

 

full moon
butterflies
within me

Nicky Gutierrez

 

moonshot
Planet B
swerves

Alan Summers

 

sunrise
gliding into
the river

Xenia Tran

 

mist …
a red monkey cap
alone

arvinder kaur

 

star
cloud
chicory blue

Janice Munro

 

turtle jaws
my strawberry
toenail

Kath Abela Wilson

 

doll:
in the slow air
hands of salt

Giuliana Ravaglia

 

autumn leaves more sky

Rich Schilling

 

thaw
humming
an old song

cezar ciobîcă

 

low tide
retreating into
myself

Edward Cody Huddleston

 

trying
to get to you
autumn dusk

cristina apetrei

 

On-off
Fireflies

Margie Gustafson

 

a no tombolo day

simonj UK

 

before
my name
river stones

Kari Davidson

 

moon landing
waiting
to exhale

Bona M. Santos

 

flitting
butterflies
my thoughts

Claire Vogel Camargo

 

slow wingbeats
melting shadows

Victor Ortiz

 

mother’s day
he laces
her shoes

Roberta Beary

 

wrapped
in myself
the chrysalis

Theresa A. Cancro

 

after rain
how the snails
silver

Susan Rogers

 

sandcastle
the kids
the waves

Vali Gholami

 

rewind
the kingfisher’s
flash

Joanna Ashwell

 

you said
I love you
once

Karen Harvey

 

gnats
flustered-
first raindrops

Sanja Clifton

 

pruning
the second time
deer

Debbie Scheving

 

thirsty wings
sipping
morning sunsets

wendy c. bialek

 

Big Bang
the first time’s
the best

John S Green

 

Guest Editor Craig Kittner lives near the banks of the Cape Fear River in Wilmington, North Carolina. He has worked as a gallery director in Washington, DC, and a program director for the Kentucky Arts Council. He currently serves on the board of the North Carolina Poetry Society, directing contests for the 2020 edition of the Pinesong Awards anthology.

 

Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019).

After several years of moves, Craig Kittner has put down roots in the sandy soil of Eastern North Carolina. There the sunshine is clear. The climate gives rise to riotous growths of wildflowers. Birds abound, and the sky is alive with ocean breezes. Craig is content to walk the forests and beaches, gathering imagery for his poems. His work has been published in Frogpond, Chrysanthemum, Failed Haiku, bottle rockets, and the Autumn Moon Haiku Journal. In 2018, he had two poems selected as judges' favorites in the 5th Annual Golden Haiku Competition, and one poem selected for the Winston Salem Writers' Poetry in Plain Sight project. His first chapbook, Time's Sweet Savor, was published in 2016 by New Books on Front Street, an imprint of Old Books on Front Street in downtown Wilmington.

This Post Has 96 Comments

  1. So many wonderful poems and comments! Haiku are brief by their nature, but here
    we are pushing the limits. Can’t get shorter than one word. But even one word can contain
    an ancient myth and multiple meanings.

    narc(I)ss(I)st

    Jackie Chou

    This says so much. Just incredible.

    dad’s soft touch calluses

    john hawkhead

    Men can be strong and powerful and also gentle and kind. Working hard for family and others.

    his lean teen look chemo

    Greg Longenecker

    Having lost friends to cancer in middle age is sad enough. I remember students afflicted in their short lives and some miracle survivors.

    reunion…
    wider
    hugs

    Pris Campbell

    Our family and friends are so “spread out” around the country and the world, reunions are always interesting…

  2. reunion…
    wider
    hugs
    .
    Pris Campbell
    .
    This small ku seems to grow and expand with each word and then collapses upon itself. Like an absorbing black hole, the ever-widening hugs of members of this reunion continue until, I imagine, that everyone is finally included and sucked into one blissful presence. I too feel part of this group hug!
    .
    .
    his lean teen look chemo
    .
    Greg Longenecker
    .
    When I come to the surprise at the end of Longenecker’s ku, I’m compelled to reread the poem again but now with a changed perception. The semantic meaning of “lean” takes on an additional importance, even a changed meaning, from what I thought I already knew about the teen. The brevity of the poem emphasizes the two-syllable word “chemo” at the end as does the contrast of “chemo” with the preceding four monosyllabic words.

  3. I really loved these brevity haiku!
    So many of them sparkled like jewels.
    I especially liked Rehn Kovacic’s

    returning
    from sick leave
    tea-stained cup

    which reaches out to me with the clearly rendered edge of that tea-stained cup!

    I also loved Joanne van Helvoort’s

    fog
    a boat
    surfaces

    as the lines themselves seem to suggest the progression of the boat emerging from fog

    And I loved Kathabela Wilson’s mysterious haiku with the turtle and the strawberry toe…

    turtlejaws
    my strawberry
    toenail

    They were all wonderful.

  4. Thank-you Craig for challenging us to write haiku with this series.
    Wonderful poems, a reminder to offer, our ku to others.

  5. This is a marvelous collection of haiku! The best yet! The brevity challenge has brought out the best of us all! There are so many excellent poems here that I can’t even begin to call them out. Kudos to everyone for an excellent response to the challenge. I can’t imagine the 5-7-5 challenge will top this.

  6. Many good poems!
    My favourite are:

    cancer…
    in stillness
    stars rise
    ——Steve Tabb

    cicadas –
    the profile
    of shadows
    ——–Giovanna Restuccia

    on our eleventh date rape
    ——Lori A Minor

    wrapped
    in myself
    the chrysalis
    ——Theresa A. Cancro

  7. Going through looking for favorites but really there are too many to list. Someone make a haiku brevity anthology.

  8. after rain
    how the snails
    silver

    Susan Rogers

    Love “silver” working as a color and a verb. Great sounds in this too!

    1. Thank you so much Rich!!
      I had this image in my head and when I tried to catch it in words I kept changing it to be shorter. I love seeing the silver trails snails make on the wet pavement and even how they glisten silver too. I am always afraid I may step on one by mistake. When I come home after the rain they are everwhere.

  9. I like the many double-meanings possible in:
    *
    moonshine
    still
    hidden
    .
    Margaret Walker
    *
    moonlight or liquor; a still, or not moving or yet… such an accomplishment within such brevity! kj

    1. Kathy, Thank you for the kind comments! I am so pleased that you saw the multiple meanings I hoped to convey.

  10. slow wingbeats
    melting shadows
    .
    Victor Ortiz
    .
    In all the brevity, I keep returning to this.
    Maybe because of personal experience…swans in a white winter sky…, but also because the few words draw out time.
    The right words in the right order, but the words can be read in any order and this haiku retains its poeticism. Extra marks for a successfully miscast verb.
    Need I say more?
    .
    simonj

  11. a vision
    in white
    plum blossoms
    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
    .
    My adult daughter will marry in the next couple of years and I’ll remember your poem till that day. Thanks!

  12. rip currents
    drowning
    In debt
    Nancy Brady
    .
    Nice image, an overwhelming but real experience for some. Rip current captures this feeling!
    Ron

    1. Thanks Ron for your comment. I n the past several weeks, our city on the lake has had, unfortunately, several drowning by rip currents..the people just swept away or in trying to rescue them. Debt can suck the soul as well. The public beach has finally reopens with new safety guidelines, but with Erie being so high this year, who knows what could happen next.

  13. And not just poems got lost in the internet, so did my comment yesterday.
    .
    To try again: the ones that captured a comment from me were . . .
    .
    a desire . . .
    daisy
    petals
    (Rosa Maria Di Salvatore)
    .
    turtle jaws
    my strawberry
    tonail
    (Kath Abela Wilson)
    .
    thaw
    humming
    an old song
    (cezar ciobica)
    .
    As I have begun working on this week’s theme I’ve decided to use the same story as I did with the Brevity theme. Would anyone else be interested in trying to see how the same story would work in each poetic form for this five week series?

      1. Having already submitted before I see this, is it something for another week. Perhaps a two poem entry. One brevity one 575?

    1. I love your idea, Susan!
      So I took up that challenge and did the same thing using the same story for 5-7-5 as for brevity. I look forward to reading yours!

    2. Hi Susan
      I responded to your invitation but the reply went after Craig’s comment. I will join you in using the same story! Cheers!

  14. What a selection – almost a book load of short haiku here and all of them interesting/challenging.
    .
    I’m particularly taken with Lori’s: on our eleventh date rape
    .
    So much in 5 words.

  15. As a relative novice to the haiku form, I’m very much still learning, and today, having had work turned down for not focussing on sound and rhythm, I came across the following interesting article by Elizabeth St Jacques, dealing with both these and extra-lean ‘skeletal’ haiku. Maybe useful.
    .
    http://startag.tripod.com/Rhythm.html

    1. Thank you Ingrid for sharing that link. As well as an instructive article, on the very bottom of the page there is a link to the older Haiku Light journal. There are many familiar names there. And typewritten! This is one I hadn’t read yet in my continuous online search for resources, which began with One Hundred Gourds. Also, there are some lovely tanka written in the traditional 5-7-5-7-7 format. Debbie

  16. Thanks Craig Kittner for selecting my ku.

    There are so many works that spoke to me of this collection.

    Regards,

    Neelam Dadhwal

  17. I did not participate, perhaps brevity isn’t my strong side😉. But I enjoyed to read all those haiku.

    My favourite are:

    autumn leaves more sky

    Rich Schilling

    on our eleventh date rape

    Lori A Minor

    On-off
    Fireflies

    Margie Gustafson

    rain dear…

    Adrian Bouter

    1. Thanks Anna Maria! I usually write in 5-7-5. I found it challenging to write briefer, but rewarding too.

  18. I appreciated many of these either for their meaning, cleverness, or the yummy sounds read out loud. Some were commented on already, so I will comment on some of the others.
    *
    rock limpet
    the grip
    of grief
    *
    Martha Magenta
    *
    A wonderful use of nature and human nature, and a strong description of grief.
    *
    his lean teen look chemo
    *
    Greg Longenecker
    *
    A surprise ending after the lightness of the start.
    *
    fog
    a boat
    surfaces
    *
    Joanne van Helvoort
    *
    Living by the water, this is an image I’m familiar with, but once this little haiku looked like a sail to me, it stuck!
    *
    turtle jaws
    my strawberry
    toenail
    *
    Kath Abela Wilson
    *
    I’m not sure what her story is here, but it jarred me into the recollection of an encounter with a snapping turtle in a strawberry patch when visiting family in Missouri. Back in western Washington, It’s the pesky deer.

  19. Pardon the pun; I felt I had to have a shot at this one by Alan.
    Use to his selfless commenting on many of our poems weekly, seldom receiving comment himself when he offers up his own poems.
    .
    Always fully loaded I find myself sometimes seeking deeper and deeper, believing sometimes he is writing in a unique form of binary language. Albeit in a light and succinct manner.
    Perhaps it’s just me reading too deep.
    .
    .
    moonshot
    Planet B
    swerves

    Alan Summers
    .
    Captured ever so succinctly, a poem I believe written about the extinction of our planet. coupled with our desire to find a new home before crunch day.
    .
    Moon shot
    .
    The first line clearly speaks of man’s attempt at another (some doubt we did it before) moon landing. So desperate are we, that enemies on earth congregate to seek out our future home together.
    .
    Planet B
    .
    The pivot, deliberately made cryptic in order to cause thought. My first being to insert “black or blue”, knowing he was referring to our blue planet, how it is turning dark through human abuse, though also guiding towards his London roots, for the cockney slang term for black and blue (meaning bruised). Following, I found myself turning to google to go beyond “b” believing I found an intention to expand in a 70’s fiction film. Titled “planet B”.
    .
    swerves
    .
    Line three for me sums up the sceptics.
    The ones to whom many lay people turn, in order to detract from providing their energy to further boost our efforts in protecting this ever so diverse planet..
    .
    For me Alan’s is an expansive poem, joyful to explore, though filled with sadness and a desperate call for food for thought.
    .
    Thanks Alan for the journey.
    Hoping I’ve not discredited in any way.
    Best wishes
    Rob

    1. Robert, I just read this as I was logging out for the day, and it is something to contemplate! And here I thought it might involve an imaginative video game. I should have known better. Debbie

      1. Debbie,
        Thank you for adding another link, I though did consider a video game, me having been credited with 29 others on being part of a VG @ outer worldly / idea.com.The comp having had a link for submissions from this the. I’m sure Alan’s poem would have received one of those places had it been submitted.
        It would be interesting to read further your contemplations.
        Best wishes
        Rob

    2. Hi Robert
      I couldn’t agree more with your first two paragraphs.
      And the rest of your post is very interesting to read regarding Alan’s verse. No doubt you’re
      on the right road.
      Having taken a few workshops with him online, and in person, Karen also, deep indeed 🙂 and they give such a wealth of information over and above the curriculum of the workshop day.

      1. Hi Carol,
        Thank you for your comment.
        I too had the pleasure of sitting on one of Alan and Karen’s haiku courses.
        Knowing I will return one day. Sometimes thinking, that should be soon. I would and do recommend “ call of the page” as a worthy avenue of learning, along with the blog page “area 17”.
        Best wishes
        Rob

    3. i read it as planet B choosing to swerve to avoid earthlings so they must return to fix what they have broken — a cosmic joke with a warning …. i don’t know Alan so don’t have the insight of his students. made me think big …. a fine and varied assortment of brevity by all

      1. Hi Clysta
        I see where you are coming from. I often fail to see gags that are right in front of me. Clearly, if you are right, it certainly swerved me. Who knows, it could be another slant that Alan intended.
        Best wishes
        Rob

        1. Rob, I appreciate your reading of it — I should have said so originally. The ku rocked my universe and likely had little to do with the author’s intention, which was your point. Thank you for your deep insights. Clysta

          1. Dear Clysta,

            If correct Alan has certainly squeezed a lot into so few words.

            Best wishes
            Rob

  20. Life through a prism.
    I marvelled at both the diversity and connectivity of so many great poems.
    Congratulations to all and thank you for the journey.
    I picked two this week, both touching deep.
    .
    mother’s day
    he laces
    her shoes
    .
    Roberta Bleary
    .
    None of us have a crystal ball. if we did, I wonder if we could or would change things.
    Reberta’s poem shows how life through time reverses everything. A poem that stops you in your tracks to reflect. What are we here for, are we getting it right?
    .

    on our eleventh date rape
    .
    Lori A Minor
    .
    Lori’s poem again hit deep.
    .
    Ratcheting up the tension from the off, arriving at a slight pause, ending abruptly.
    The clever use of “eleventh” as a pivot works well with the two concrete images.

  21. My favourites were:-
    .
    ‘blackbird’s song
    I ignore
    nearing death’
    Aljoša Vuković
    .
    ‘tiger
    approaches
    from the frame’
    Susan Bonk Plumridge
    .
    ‘stone
    upon stone
    my father’s house’
    George Hinton
    .
    ‘knothole
    deepening
    annihilation’
    Hifsa Ashraf

  22. Some wonderful brief haiku this week, though I felt some seemed to struggle. It was interesting to see the numbers of poems which fell beneath the usual two-part structure for these efforts which seemed so delicate that imposing such a structure on them would have caused them to shatter. Having said that, I spotted both a three-image and a four-image haiku accommodated satisfactorily.

  23. i see it now on the bottom. thanks, Craig K. for fixing the list and placing my short poem with the other entries.

    Enjoy the Conf.

  24. stone thrower
    the sun
    ripples

    Robert Kingston

    yes….i can see this moment….thank you Robert

  25. mother’s day
    he laces
    her shoes
    .
    Roberta Beary
    .
    This one sweetly captures what it is like to have an aging parent.

  26. wrapped
    in myself
    the chrysalis
    .
    Theresa A. Cancro
    .
    A nice comparison between the human world and the natural world.

  27. Happy HNA Conference, everyone! I just got settled into my room here at the Hawthorne. If you are here or will be soon, keep an eye out for me and say “hi!” This is my first conference and I am quite excited.

    Ta!

    1. I had sent one of my own, but it was not inserted,
      maybe I did something wrong in sending ?

      clouds –
      the snow
      of long ago

      Congrats to all 🙂

  28. We had a couple of hiccups getting started on the series. My apologies to Wendy C Bialek and Debbie Scheving for missing their submissions. I’m not sure where the disconnect occurred, so, please, if you sent something before the Saturday at Midnight deadline and you don’t see it here, let me know.

    1. sent it Friday the 2nd….Craig….i still don’t see it here. sent you an email with submission poem

    2. Sent this in Saturday morning.
      .
      Big Bang
      the first time’s
      the best
      .
      John S Green
      Bellingham, WA

    3. I had sent one of my own, but it was not inserted,
      maybe I did something wrong in sending ?

      clouds –
      the snow
      of long ago

      Congrats to all 🙂

    4. Ne avevo inviato uno mio, ma non è stato inserito,
      forse ho fatto qualcosa di sbagliato nell’invio?

      nuvole –
      la neve
      di molto tempo fa

      Complimenti a tutti 🙂

    5. I had sent one of my own, but it was not inserted.
      edelweiss…
      moving images
      in her mind

      Elisabetta Castagnoli

  29. An amazing read, so much portrayed with so few syllables.
    .
    Thank you Craig for adding my verse to this versatile collection.

  30. Always astounded by what can be conveyed with so few words.
    Thanks, Craig n’ kj!

  31. Dear Craig,kittner
    Greetings .Thank you for including mine, going through all the wonderful contributions and my favorite this week is,

    campfire
    sparking
    memories

    Ronald K. Craig

  32. mother’s day
    he laces
    her shoes

    Roberta Beary

    i love the story here…thank you, Roberta Beary

  33. Craig…………

    missing
    my haiku
    on brevity

    wendy c. bialek

    can not
    discuss
    missing ‘ku

    wendy c. bialek

  34. Really taken with Jackie Chou’s haiku, it says so much in a few letters.
    .
    So much heart, so much poignancy, so much feeling in all of these brief, but spectacular haiku. Now, to return to reading and contemplating others.
    .
    The randomness of the entries in the order presented really freshness up the column, Craig. Thanks for taking over the column for the next few weeks.

  35. reunion…
    wider
    hugs

    Pris Campbell

    I haven’t read all the entries yet but this one started my day with a chuckle! Thanks, Pris!

  36. John Hawkhead’s monoku, four words that describe great depth of feeling:
    .
    dad’s soft touch calluses
    .
    Lucy Whitehead: autumn does indeed bring about a change of tune until the last leaf has gone. I love this concept. But I was also reminded in my own work how essential is a definite or indefinite article? Would this ku have worked as well without the ‘the’, unless they are specific trees?:
    .
    deep autumn
    the trees lose
    their voices
    .
    Similarly, in the joyful simplicity of Madhuri Pillai’s:
    .
    the wind
    and i
    whistling
    .
    So much expressed in Steve Tabb’s poem. I see many things in these five moving words, including grief, hope and relief:
    .
    cancer…
    in stillness
    stars rise

    Looking forward to this series and to greater self discipline! Thank you Craig.

  37. campfire
    sparking
    memories
    .
    Ronald K. Craig
    .
    This one works two ways. Someone could be sitting in front of a campfire right now or that someone could be experiencing memories now of a campfire in the past. All this in just 7 syllables.

    1. Thank you, Valentina. I like brevity and haven’t written 5-7-5 in several years. That may be a challenge!
      Ron

  38. full moon
    butterflies
    within me
    .
    Nicky Gutierrez
    .
    Nice contrast of the external and the internal.

  39. Many good poems this week. My two favourites: Jackie Chou’s concrete poem “narc(I)ss(I)st”, brilliant, and Rich Schilling’s “autumn leaves more sky” for the double reading of “leaves”, excellent. The art of saying more with less.

  40. rip currents
    drowning
    in debt
    ,
    Nancy Brady
    .
    The concept is well expressed in only 7 syllables.

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