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HAIKU DIALOGUE – The Haiku Mind – Favorite Meal

The Haiku Mind 

Recently, my five-year-old daughter was comforting her younger sister when she spontaneously composed this haiku as a source of solace:

leaving
all that’s left
the fog

I was shocked! I haven’t shared much haiku with her yet thinking it was a bit beyond her ability to comprehend. Well, she showed me! This beautiful haiku came from a heart that knows no poetic rules nor has had any training. It flowed out of a haiku mindset that I believe is inborn in all of us.

Unlike adults, young children do not carry around the concerns and worries of the world. They have yet to have years of self-consciousness weigh down their creative efforts. Their first impulse is followed without wondering whether it will be “good enough”. They simply create. It is a freedom many of us long for in our own writing. So, let’s regain some of that innocence. Let’s write from that first spark that alights within us. Let’s throw off what we believe what a haiku “is” or “isn’t”. Let’s let go of trying to “follow the rules” and allow ourselves the satisfying joy of creation.

Each week I will provide a simple prompt for your imagination and memories to springboard off of. I’d like for you to try to clear your mind, breathe deeply, and follow the first image or feeling that comes to mind. Take a minute to jot down your impressions and see where it goes. Try not to take too long or spend too much time on revision. Allow yourself to trust your own inborn haiku mind.

noticing
the sunset first
her innocence

Please send one to two unpublished and freshly created haiku by clicking here: Contact Form, and put Haiku Dialogue in the Subject box.

I will select from the entries, providing commentary for a few each week, with the rest being listed in the order they are received.

next week’s theme: Travel

Think back on the places you have visited. Where are you? What do you see? Who are you with? How old are you? What time of year is it? Are you participating in a special event? Is this a place you come to often? Has something intriguing happened? Are there any specific scents or sounds associated with this place?

Let yourself follow the first thought that comes to mind and engage that idea with all of your senses. Allow yourself to create and throw off what you think “should” or “should not be” in regards to your haiku. There is no right or wrong here. Bring yourself into the moment and stay there awhile. Let it linger.

The deadline is midnight Eastern Standard Time, Saturday March 7, 2020.

Below is my commentary for Favorite Meal:

This has been a truly beautiful and exciting week of haiku. Thank you all for trusting me with your haiku moments. It is an immense joy to read each and every one of them. And with all this talk of food you’ve had me hungering for things I had yet to hear of! I particularly enjoyed the notes that some of you sent along explaining the dishes referenced. As with each week, I would love to hear the stories behind your haiku and what your writing process was like. Is it getting any easier to trust your creative instincts? Drop by the comments and share your thoughts, let other poets know you enjoyed their work, and possibly even join in a discussion!

Sharing a meal seems to be at the heart of many of our food-related memories. And for many this week their haiku/senryu centered on familial experiences. From extended family…

family feast
twirling pasta the same way
as my uncles

Marisa Fazio

As I am writing this week I am out of town, and as it so happens, visiting family. Last night looking through some old photo albums I saw for the first time how similar my own daughters are to my sister and I. We share the same mannerisms, same facial expressions, and even the same ways of playing. It was quite amazing. I imagine Marisa having a similar “aha” moment. I wonder how old Marisa was when this moment occurred. Was she a little girl looking over at the adult table? Or is she grown-up, now at the adult table, and noticing this for the first time?

to mothers…

third try
my lasagna passes
the mama test

Pat Davis, NH

Where I am reminded of my own failed attempts at recreating my grandmother-in-law’s infamous banana bread. The elusiveness of it still has me trying! Here with Pat’s “third attempt” I gather a sense of triumph (and possibly exasperation) at finally receiving that stamp of approval. I wonder what else Pat is hoping will pass the “mama test”…

and beloved grandparents…

apple pie…
grandma’s
memory

Rosa Maria Di Salvatore

A simple haiku yet it draws on every sense (as I imagine it): the smell, taste and sight of pie, the feel of a fork, and the sound of it crunching into the crust. With the sparsity of the wording we are left with lots of space to imagine the scene. One interpretation could be that her grandma’s memory is faltering but the one thing she can remember is how to make her apple pie. Another could be that Rosa is sharing a slice of apple pie that transports her back to the taste of her grandma’s. What do you see?

Here are the rest of this week’s selections. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. Happy reading and I look forward to hearing from you in the comments section below!

homemade pasta-
that ancient flavor
of nostalgia

Angela Giordano – Italy

 

dinner alone
where to start
with the memories

Stephen A. Peters

 

my sugary hands
the prize at the bottom
of the cereal box

Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY

 

dementia
her first pizza
without herself

Aljoša Vuković, Šibenik, Croatia

 

merciless
salmon and its eggs
at the sushi bar

Teiichi Suzuki. Japan

 

the pleasures and barbs
of childhood…wafting back
blackberry jam

Wanda Amos

 

Valentine’s Night
grated over squid ink pasta
umami stars

Helen Buckingham

 

melancholia
antidepressants
and mashed potatoes

Rehn Kovacic

 

memories of grandma
salt cod alla messinese-
the recipe written in dialect

vincenzo adamo

 

the chink of feet
on the Paris pavement
moules marinière

Andy McLellan

 

like clock work
the early bird special
with happy hour

Michael Henry Lee

 

waiting in shade
the allure of
curry rice

Neelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh, India

 

mother’s lentil soup –
the days of our childhood
freshly stirred

Eva Limbach, Germany

 

incomplete
without sundown
balcony supper

Richa Sharma

 

After a quarrel
We add less pepper
To our lentil soup

Anna Goluba

 

fresh pie
the warmth of kisses
my mother’s

Nazarena Rampini, Italia

 

aloo prantha –
a taste of mother’s love
for breakfast

( aloo prantha is a traditional and popular Punjabi Indian breakfast. It consists of unleavened dough stuffed with a mixture of spicy mashed potatoes )

arvinder kaur, Chandigarh, India

 

grease and salt
on a slice of warm bread –
mother’s smile

Zdenka Mlinar, Zagreb, CROATIA

 

dad’s waffles
every little square filled
with love

Bryan Rickert

 

char-grilled
corn silk
– summer nights

Roberta Beach Jacobson

 

french cheesecake –
all our thoughts
coated in sugar

Isabel Caves

 

*iftar…
mum share of bean cake
also mine

* iftar is the evening meal with which Muslims end their daily Ramadan fast at sunset

Jibril Dauda Muhammad

 

arousal
the way my husband
rolls the gnocchi

Terri French

 

seafood festival—
grandma’s tongs
chasing the crab

Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC

 

the smell of arson . . .
my favorite meal
in my mother-in-law’s way

Ivan Gaćina, Croatia

 

an extra dab of butter
on my mashed potatoes
chickenpox

Louise Hopewell, Australia

 

last crackling
of embers and ash…
lamb skewers

ultimo scoppiettio
di braci e cenere…
Arrosticini

Daniela Misso

 

my night off . . .
his chicken jalfrezi
extra yummy

Ingrid Baluchi, Macedonia

 

visits back
still cutting to the core
baked apples

Laurie Greer, Washington, DC

 

breakfast for dinner
as if we could
just start over

Kristen Lindquist

 

homemade pasta
the smell of grandma’s
apron

Pamela A Babusci

 

weekend fast
enjoying the banquet
in my head

Charles Harmon, Los Angeles, California, USA

 

tagine
the drooling dog
by my chair

Adrian Bouter

 

that day
we had wine and bread by the Seine
time like a river

Peggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama

 

solar seeds –
the savory dreams
in my risotto alla Milanese

Luisa Santoro

 

edamame spaghetti
the puzzled silence
before the questions

Madhuri Pillai

 

wonder diet
a pepperoni pizza
the best loved

Marta Chocilowska

 

steak smoke
from backyard charcoal
my dad’s voice

Ann K. Schwader, Westminster, CO

 

ramadan morning…
the aroma of biriyani
lifting the spirit

R. Suresh Babu, india

 

hot tomato soup
my mother swears it cures
everything

Franjo Ordanic

 

snow tales …
on her fingertips
orange’s smell

fiabe di neve … profumano d’arancia / i polpastrelli

Lucia Cardillo

 

the morning after
or the night before…
breakfast

Steve Tabb

 

Mama’s brownies
missing
her special touch

Margaret Walker

 

Spring sunrise…
our cups of coffee
just before departure

Elisabetta Castagnoli

 

fried green tomatoes
the last sizzle
of daddy’s garden

Pris Campbell

 

grandparent’s house
the fragrance of bread
from room to room

Eufemia Griffo

 

morning
finding my Jekyll
with juice

Janice Munro

 

easy over egg
that elusive one
after all these years

Edna Beers

 

refugee camp…
the lingering smell
of desi roti

Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan

 

romantic picnic
we share our food
with ants

Rich Schilling, Webster Groves

 

homesickness…
mom makes me
mac and cheese

Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio

 

pot luck
after the funeral
the quandary of fresh peach pie

Greer Woodward, Waimea, HI

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.

Guest Editor Tia Haynes resides in Lakewood, Ohio, near her beloved Lake Erie. She was featured in New Resonance 11: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku and has appeared in journals and anthologies worldwide. Much of her inspiration comes from the landscape and people of the American Midwest as well as life with her two small children. Her chapbook, leftover ribbon, (Velvet Dusk Publishing) is available on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter: @adalia_haiku

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).

This Post Has 51 Comments

  1. Thank you for publishing my poem and your precious work.

    A wonderful selection and I have enjoyed reading them all. Congratulations to all the poets.

    homemade pasta-
    that ancient flavor
    of nostalgia
    —-Angela Giordano – Italy
    *
    *
    dinner alone
    where to start
    with the memories
    —–Stephen A. Peters
    *
    *
    my sugary hands
    the prize at the bottom
    of the cereal box
    —-Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY
    *
    *
    waiting in shade
    the allure of
    curry rice
    —-Neelam Dadhwal, Chandigarh, India
    *
    *
    grease and salt
    on a slice of warm bread –
    mother’s smile
    –Zdenka Mlinar, Zagreb, CROATIA
    *
    *
    seafood festival—
    grandma’s tongs
    chasing the crab
    —Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC
    *
    *
    snow tales …
    on her fingertips
    orange’s smell
    fiabe di neve … profumano d’arancia / i polpastrelli
    —- Lucia Cardillo
    *
    *
    Mama’s brownies
    missing
    her special touch
    —Margaret Walker
    *
    *
    grandparent’s house
    the fragrance of bread
    from room to room
    —Eufemia Griffo

    1. Elisabetta –

      Thank you for mentioning my haiku!

      You also listed some others I had missed – so was pleased you brought them to my attention.

      Your own “spring sunrise” – there’s nothing quite like the smell of coffee early in the morning.

  2. Many thanks Tia for selecting my poem. I hope everyone enjoyed my ” aloo prantha” . Somehow haiku takes me back again and again to my childhood. The reason behind this could perhaps be the recent loss of my mother,an event,a loss that’s hard to get over. My mother was a great cook and always made pranthas for us so lovingly. Miss those times and those meals.

    Enjoyed reading ‘family feast’ and your comments on the same. The image is so vivid and one can identify so clearly. Pat’s poem worked so well too ! Yes,the standards mama set were so high.

    ‘dementia’ ,by Sibenik,a very poignant poem . My eyes were moist, having seen my mom on the verge of it all. Enjoyed ‘dad’s waffles’ , ‘by Bryan Rickert , grandma’s tongs’by Lori,’ homemade pasta’ by Pamela.

    Congratulations to all chosen poets !

    1. I’m sorry for your loss. My own mother passed in 2013. She was a fantastic cook and I have many memories of her dishes and of cooking with her. Reading many of these haiku made me smile with those memories.

    2. arvinder – Thanks for mentioning my poem. I can relate to your loss – my husband died in September, and my brother died in February – my heartfelt sympathies to you.

      1. Pat, I’m joining in late this week but am sorry to just hear of your double loss. Debbie

  3. Conngrats poets. Literally I was waiting to read your haikus and know the great haiku minds through your haiku dialogues on the topic of Favorite meal. Thank you Tia Madam for the wonderful selections this week. i enjoyed reading all the haikus. I have tried to interpret few of the haikus and see how well i could connect with them

    homemade pasta-
    that ancient flavor
    of nostalgia

    Angela Giordano – Italy

    Food has this special ingredient to remind you of your past, and what best can do this than the food cooked by your mom or elders in the family. When you work overseas and reach your home home after a long gap, the first thing you would want is to eat those special delicacies cooked by your mom or elders at home. you wouldn’t have eaten anything better anywhere, and the first bite of it brings wonderful memories of eating it on the table with your family and friends, and they come to your mind. Wonderful Haiku Poet

    dementia
    her first pizza
    without herself

    Aljoša Vuković, Šibenik, Croatia

    Pathos in this haiku. You have eaten so many pizzas in your life but this one seems your fist one. Imagining it give us shivers. I mean you even lose your memory of your taste. And your expressions are bland though the pizza you hold in your hand is rich in colours and spices. you have eaten it many times, but now you seem to be eating it for the first time without the excitement and nostalgia of the past. Wonderful Haiku Poet

    refugee camp…
    the lingering smell
    of desi roti

    Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan

    Brings to your mind of not just eating your meal but sharing it with others. On my long walks in my neighborhood, i see the poor who live in tents and cook their meal in the open and eat it under the sky with their loved ones. And the fragrance of the meal invites you to share their meal. They put their best ingredient in food which is called ‘LOVE’. And they eat it after a day’s hard labour, and they relish every bite of it. Wonderful Haiku Poet

    Mama’s brownies
    missing
    her special touch

    Margaret Walker

    When people age , and suffer from age related ailments, they are not able to cook as before. And what is more distressing is that they ask you again and again how their food taste, and would love to hear an appreciation or acknowledgement from us. We try to inspire them and motivate them telling this is so good and i haven’t tasted anything before like this. And i have experienced this in my life too. I could connect with this haiku so well. Thank you Madam, Wonderful Haiku

    hot tomato soup
    my mother swears it cures
    everything

    Franjo Ordanic

    We have a same kind of soup in southern part of India. we call it Rasam and also add garlic and other spices with it. Surprisingly, i have read few messages on Whatsapp that it is a cure for many virus related diseases. Whenever we suffer from cold , the first thing they give us is the hot piping rasam or the soup. I could connect with this haiku so well. Wonderful Haiku Poet.

    homemade pasta
    the smell of grandma’s
    apron

    Pamela A Babusci

    An apron is a calligraphy of fingerprints and marks of menu. You smell the apron, you know what was cooked and what is cooking. And when you wear this apron, you feel you are a perfect cook and you walk with your head held high into the kitchen and become a kitchen warrior. How nice to smell the homemade pasta on grandma’s apron. Wonderful Haiku Poet

    I have enjoyed reading all the haikus. Best wishes Poets.

    1. Thank you for your commentary and for sharing much of yourself with us. I have never heard of Rasam but tomato soup is a favorite of mine. I’ll have to look up a recipe! How interesting that on two different continents tomato soup is a comfort food (and medicinal) for those who are sick!

    2. R. Suresh Babu –

      Thank you for mentioning my haiku. Interestingly, you also touched on one possible meaning when you commented on “refugee camp”. Love is an important component of many favorite foods – especially those made by people we cherish.

      Pris Campbell’s “Fried Green Tomatoes” is another that touches on the “love” of a favorite food from her father’s garden – and for her father. I could taste the fried green tomatoes as I read the haiku!

      Another that addresses love of a person(s) and memories is Eufemia Griffo’s “grandparents’ house”. The homes of my grandparents also smelled of freshly baked bread. I could smell it as I read the haiku – and recall the many memories of their love.

      It is wonderful that you took the time to comment on so many of the haiku here. You “see” meanings in several of the haiku that I had not yet thought about – and that is a great part of the beauty of haiku!

      I so appreciate your taking the time to do this.

      Your own haiku –

      ramadan morning…
      the aroma of biriyani
      lifting the spirit

      I smiled at a memory this evoked. As the principal of a school where many of the students celebrate Ramadan, I can only imagine how the smell of food throughout the day must make their mouth’s water in anticipation of the evening meal. The aroma of biriyani lifts my spirits at any time – it must surely be something to look forward to after a day of fasting.

      Thank you.

  4. Thank you, Tia, for selecting one of my haiku this week! I really enjoy seeing everyone’s offerings at this haiku banquet, especially feeling the family love many poets associate with food.

    I especially liked, for its emotional truth and wordplay:

    visits back
    still cutting to the core
    baked apples

    Laurie Greer, Washington, DC

    and:

    seafood festival—
    grandma’s tongs
    chasing the crab

    Lori A Minor, Raleigh, NC

    There’s a humor in this one that I love, the image of grandma chasing the crab with tongs like a crab’s claw.

    1. Thank you for your kind words, Kristen; glad this one resonated. Baked apples are forever associated for me with my grandmother and annual visits where the tension was palpable, even to little kids. It’s a very complicated dish for me, and one I’ve never had in any other context.

  5. I loved the haiku about breakfast for dinner. It was a staple in our home growing up. When my younger sister first fixed breakfast food for dinner to her new husband, he freaked. Even now, many years later, he will not eat any foods he associates with breakfast after ten a.m. in the morning. No matter, we still do.

    1. I make breakfast for dinner all the time! It’s so simple to put together and enormously comforting after a trying day (which is many when you have a 3 and 5 year old running around). Also, easy to remember on a meal plan, lol. I often forget to prep food earlier in the day. Which reminds me I need to soak my lentils for tonight!

  6. My Dad, from a large impoverished Scots family between the wars, used to tell us kids of how, if money was tight, they would often sit down to a meal simply of cheap ‘bread and dripping’. This memory came to mind with Zdenka’s poem, although circumstances, hopefully, were not so dire:

    grease and salt
    on a slice of warm bread –
    mother’s smile

    Zdenka Mlinar, Zagreb, CROATIA
    ….
    The other poem which brought me up short was Adrian Bouter’s :

    tagine
    the drooling dog
    by my chair

    Oh yes! Wherever you may be, probably in an outdoor restaurant, maybe somewhere exotic like Marrakesh or even here in Macedonia where stray dogs abound, that dreadful feeling of…boy, I’m hungry, but I must keep back a token of my meal (surreptitiously wrapped in a paper napkin) for that dog – or cat – under the table, because the night is long and life is tough, even if you and it end up wishing you’d eaten a bit more. Thanks, Adrian.

    And thank you, Tia, for including one of mine. It’s quite a reveal to dip into other poets’ experiences, often to find we share the same thoughts, values and emotions.

    1. You are most welcome Ingrid 🙂 Thank you for sharing how these haiku struck you. It really is revealing to see how we are more alike than not.

      1. So many great haiku especially about Italian and Indian foods! I loved them all. Thanks for including my haiku about a very special memory. Not Italian, but still special! I’ll comment later on the ones I particularly liked.

  7. Thank you so much for including mine, Tia! Here are a few of my favorites:

    Valentine’s Night
    grated over squid ink pasta
    umami stars

    Helen Buckingham

    arousal
    the way my husband
    rolls the gnocchi

    Terri French

    breakfast for dinner
    as if we could
    just start over

    Kristen Lindquist

    fried green tomatoes
    the last sizzle
    of daddy’s garden

    Pris Campbell

    third try
    my lasagna passes
    the mama test

    Pat Davis, NH

  8. Congratulations to all… I’m happy mine make it too.. Thanks to Lori Zajkowski and
    Tia Haynes

  9. Thanks to kj and Lori, and to Tia for selecting and commenting on my simple poem. Yes – that satisfying and triumphant feeling of passing the mama test. The mama test extended into many areas – sewing, needlework, ironing, etc.!
    Some of my favorites this week:
    dementia
    her first pizza
    without herself By Aljosa Vukovic Such sadness, to see a loved one who once loved a favorite food and now not able to express enjoyment.
    snow tales…
    on her fingertips
    orange’s smell By Lucia Cardillo My Nonno placed orange peels on the wood stove so the smell would waft through the whole house. Thanks for bringing that memory up with your poem!
    seafood festival
    grandma’s tongs
    chasing the crab By Lori A. Minor I love this for the sheer fun of it – what a sight!

    1. Glad that you enjoyed the commentary 🙂 Aljosa’s haiku on dementia hits home for me having watched my grandma go through it. I think I felt a tie in some way to all of the poems this week. As Lemuel commented, food connects us all. It is a beautiful thing that our community of diverse writers can resonate with each other in this way.

    2. Thank you, Pat! I’m so glad my haiku resonated with you. I loved yours as well! It really hit home for me. I’ve always loved cooking, but I’m at a stage in my life now where mama’s recipes are some of my go-tos and I just can’t seem to make them quite like she does.

  10. Kudos, to all you poets and dreamers, and thank-you. Your writing is tasty.
    *
    We are connected by our need for nourishment. I appreciate reading glimpses of the everyday and the every-person aspects of these ku. Your intense presence comes through quietly in your compositions. You gave us poems about food, which is life, that we all share, and you fed my soul.
    *

    homesickness…
    mom makes me
    mac and cheese
    Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
    *
    refugee camp…
    the lingering smell
    of desi roti
    Hifsa Ashraf, Pakistan
    *
    morning
    finding my Jekyll
    with juice
    Janice Munro
    *
    weekend fast
    enjoying the banquet
    in my head
    Charles Harmon, Los Angeles, California, USA

    1. I enjoy your commentary every week. How you describe your approach to reading and its impact on you is so thoughtful and your generosity in your uplifting comments is a delight. I too felt like my soul was fed this week.

    2. Thanks for finding something in my haiku, Lemuel. Too many times during my college days, I suffered from homesickness and would ask for someone to come get me so that I could come home for the weekend. My sister Sally usually drove over and Mom often made me what I wanted, and her homemade Mac and cheese with bacon on top was my choice. My sisters were not as enthralled with the meal, but I loved it. Yes, Kraft’s Mac and cheese was a common meal with my roommate, but it wasn’t like Mom’s.
      .
      Thanks Tia for including mine with all the tasty treats. There were so many that resonate…think I just gained ten pounds.

    3. Thank you, Lemuel. Your words resonate with me. Reading the poems and all the commentaries and personal selections this morning inspired a crescendo of feelings within me.

  11. Some delectable ku here; just a few that struck me, for various reasons:

    *

    my sugary hands
    the prize at the bottom
    of the cereal box

    Sari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY
    *
    My hands were sticky like this many times growing up! While sound isn’t specified, I can hear the dry contents shifting and settling as the hands rumage in the cardboard
    *

    merciless
    salmon and its eggs
    at the sushi bar

    Teiichi Suzuki. Japan
    *
    a devastating picture…I will never be a sushi fan
    *
    incomplete
    without sundown
    balcony supper

    Richa Sharma
    *
    this reminded me of trips where I had a balcony…one in Greece, especially; the sundown was definitely part of the gustatory experience
    *
    *
    breakfast for dinner
    as if we could
    just start over

    Kristen Lindquist
    *
    I was trying to do something similar, based on memories of pancake dinners when my father was out of town. This is so much better than anything I came up with! Thanks for showing me how to do it
    *
    homemade pasta
    the smell of grandma’s
    apron

    Pamela A Babusci
    *
    I had to think about this for a minute–why the apron? But little kids would have their faces at about apron height, and so would get the scents of it. Very nice!
    *
    ramadan morning…
    the aroma of biriyani
    lifting the spirit

    R. Suresh Babu, india
    *
    I love the intertwining of physical and spiritual here. The whole point of religious ritual
    *
    pot luck
    after the funeral
    the quandary of fresh peach pie

    Greer Woodward, Waimea, HI
    *
    here, too–the physical experience and an emotional one are close–almost too close for comfort, you could say. How enjoy life in the wake of a tragedy? Yet life must go on…
    *
    Thank you, everyone. And thanks to Tia for including one of mine.

    1. You’re welcome and I also enjoyed that there were poems that touched on the spiritual or the difficult. Even current events such as Hifsa’s about refugee camps. Seeing what is closest to a poet’s heart is eye-opening to me. Your “baked apples” haiku brought up for me my own complicated relationship with my mother who I would cook and bake with when I came back home before she passed.

    2. Thank you Laurie for your kind comments! I don’t think the breakfast cereal companies put prizes in the bottom of kids’ cereal anymore? The younger haiku readers/writers won’t have this association. But I have the same fond memory of the sound of of the crinkly inner bag in the cereal box and the dry cereal being rummaged through!

    3. Thank you so much Tia !! And thank you for your perceptive commentary!! All the haiku are fabulous !! Lovely light and shade in the selection. Well done to all !!

    4. Thank you, Laurie, for commenting on my poem.

      pot luck
      after the funeral
      the quandary of fresh peach pie

      It’s very helpful to know how others analyze your work. The pie moment happened to me and I remember how awkward it felt, though I doubt anyone was paying attention to what I was putting on my plate. But I am an example of frail humanity when it comes to desserts. I took a slice. It was delicious.

  12. Thank you Tia for including one of my haiku here among so many wonderful morsels! I particularly love these two haiku with their powerful subtleties:

    breakfast for dinner
    as if we could
    just start over

    Kristen Lindquist

    easy over egg
    that elusive one
    after all these years

    Edna Beers

    1. You are very welcome Sari! And aren’t those two haiku simply divine? It feels like they flowed out of Kristen and Edna with such immediacy and ease. Your “sugary hands” haiku had me chuckling. I love it so much!

  13. Wow that’s made me hungry! Thanks for including mine again this week, Tia, and congratulations to all those posted.
    .
    My dish of the day is Teiichi Suzuki’s:
    .
    merciless
    salmon and its eggs
    at the sushi bar

    1. You’re welcome Helen! Telichi’s haiku had me cringe a bit in its subject matter and is so well done. As a vegan I have to say it was an interesting week of selecting haiku!

  14. a fantastic smorgasbord of food memories….thank you poets and poets in charge of serving the dishes.

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