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Haiku Dialogue: What’s at Hand Week 18

Welcome to Haiku Dialogue — What’s at Hand Week 18 with Guest Editor Craig Kittner.

Let’s talk about haiku! Through June 26 we will see what 21 common objects can inspire.

Our theme for June 5 is a fallen leaf.

Immerse yourself in the theme, then submit one original, unpublished haiku via our Contact Form. Please submit by Saturday, June 1 at 6:00 pm eastern time. Include your name as you would like it to appear and your place of residence.

By submitting you agree that your work may appear in the column — neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent.

I will select haiku that make good use of the theme and that are likely to generate lively discussions. I’ll add some thoughts below each week’s selections to get the conversation started.

Here are my selections for a weathered wall.

mother’s eyes…
the unknown portrait
on the rough wall

Adrian Bouter

 

memory
of the water-
spots on the wall

Angiola Inglese

 

snow
covers the ivy
covers the wall

Ann Rawson
Scotland, U.K.

 

weathered wall-
a hint of the height marks
left behind

arvinder Kaur
Chandigarh, India

 

walking by
the weathered wall –
my shadow cracked

Branka Cukrov-Belak

 

rainy eve
new posters uncovering
loose bricks

C.R. Harper

 

weeping willow’s quiver
on the prison wall
his numbered days

Christina Pecoraro

 

the wall I leaned on
when she told me
gone now

Christine G
Saskatchewan, Canada

 

weathered barn wood
the prairie wind
keeps blowing

Debbie Scheving
Bremerton, WA

 

a sunbeam
on my last name
memorial wall

Edward Cody Huddleston

 

ignoring the walls
between your life and mine
a blackbird’s song

Eva Limbach
Germany

 

incessant rain
on the weathered wall
“i will love you forever”

Giovanna Restuccia
Italy

 

weathered wall
a refugee child paints
his dream house

Hifsa Ashraf
Pakistan

 

prison walls
our stories told
by graffiti

Jackie Chou
Pico Rivera, CA, USA

 

rain trickling down
the cracked mural –
her steady gaze

Janice Munro
Canada

 

from the church wall
a crow offering
mazel tov

joanb
NY

 

fallen
through the old wall
a piece of sky

Kath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, California

 

tobacco barn
kudzu
creeping closer

Margaret Walker

 

wartime pillbox
on a weathered wall
scribbled letters

Marta Chocilowska
Poland

 

cold front
on the wall between us
a slow growth of moss

Martha Magenta

 

holding it up
or tearing it down
wild grape on the barn

Michele L. Harvey

 

resettlement-
icebergs drift past
long abandoned homes

Myron Arnold
Newfoundland

 

weathered fence
apple blossoms poke
through the slats

Nancy Brady
Huron, Ohio

 

weathered wall
a name cuts off
by the ruins

Neni Rusliana

 

new gap
in our old stone wall
the hunt to fill what’s empty

Pat Davis
NH, USA

 

good neighbors
for half a century
repairing the wall

Peggy Hale Bilbro
Alabama, USA

 

under the grime
and under the soot—
a scrawled heart

Pris Campbell

 

weathered wall
all Hindu Gods
in line

Radhamani sarma

 

wallpaper
peeling off in layers
family history

Rehn Kovacic

 

cormorant
shaping what’s left
of the seawall

Roberta Beary
Co Mayo, Ireland

 

rugged face in the mirror
weathered wall
still standing

Ronald K. Craig
Batavia, OH, USA

 

abandoned church
beneath a cherub fresco
dirty needles

Sanela Pliško

 

at home within
my walls void of mortar
the king of birds

simonj
UK

 

Roman arena
in the crack of the wall
a lizard’s tail

Slobodan Pupovac
Zagreb, Croatia

 

lingering spring
the weathered adobe, still home
for sparrows

Steve Tabb
Boise, Idaho

 

stone wall
missing a piece with neglect
a flutter of wings

Susan Bonk Plumridge
London, Canada

 

ghost prison –
climber weeds escape
over the wall

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio, USA

 

childhood home
the ivy hiding
years of neglect

Vandana Parashar

 

no longer scratching
the old stucco wall
dead mimosa

wendy c. bialek
prescott valley, arizona, usa

 

Walls have a built-in duality. Offering shelter yet imposing confinement. Testaments to our faculty and our temporality. The wall that remains standing into longevity cannot escape the degradations of weather.

In “prison walls” Jackie Chou captures duality well. Walls trap the body, but serve as a conduit for expression.

The separations that walls define are ultimately illusory, a fact well illustrated by Eva Limbach’s piece. Birdsong blithely cutting through the barriers we erect.

With all we know, we still want to believe that a stout wall is a sign of permanence, don’t we? Several of this week’s haiku set us straight on that score. Neni Rusliana’s stark depiction of a partial name on what remains of a wall fallen to ruin. Margaret Walker’s tobacco barn facing the relentless encroachment of kudzu. Christine G’s wall that stands now only in her memory of the support it once offered. All three making good use of haiku’s capacity to instill humility.

Yet through it all, perhaps our hope remains undaunted. Hope that something is undying. That, like the promise in Giovanna Restuccia’s “incessant rain,” love lasts forever.

There’s something to be said for that.

Please add to our wall of comments below.

 

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 took second prize in the North Carolina Poetry Society Bloodroot Haiku Award for 2019.

 

Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada and an Associate Member of the League of Canadian Poets. She co-edited an anthology of crime-themed haiku called Body of Evidence: a collection of killer ’ku.

Craig Kittner

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 62 Comments

  1. Thanks for choosing my verse, Craig.
    Again I see so many thought-provoking verses here. Here are a few impressions:
    .
    memory
    of the water-
    spots on the wall
    .
    Angiola Inglese leaves a lot unsaid here; we can only guess what incident, accident, or disaster has left these spots, a constant reminder.
    .
    Debbie Scheving’s verse about the weathered barn and the prairie wind is touching. Settlers may come and go, leave their marks, but the wind is a constant “eraser” here on the prairie.
    .
    When I read Margaret’s verse about the kudzu about to overrun the tobacco barn I thought, “How fitting!” Just as tobacco chokes the life out of its users, so the kudzu will choke the storage barn.
    (I’m biased: smoking killed my dad: cancer of the sinus)
    .
    cold front
    on the wall between us
    a slow growth of moss
    .
    The relationship Martha Magenta portrays here hasn’t seen much sunshine or warmth for a long time. Moss muffles and finally smothers—a sad fate for a relationship.
    .
    weathered fence
    apple blossoms poke
    through the slats
    .
    Nancy Brady’s encouraging verse reminds me how, no matter what barriers are up, life and joy find a way to reach through.
    .
    wallpaper
    peeled off in layers
    family history
    .
    Rehn Kovacic. Been there, done that. Each layer reveals the tastes of the previous owners. Also researching our Family tree, digging deep to find facts, I see the similarity this writer suggests.
    .
    rugged face in the mirror
    weathered wall
    still standing
    .
    Ronald K Craig. Tell me about it! This “wall” may be weathered by years and health issues, but can still stand in front of a mirror. 😉
    .
    abandoned church
    beneath a cherub fresco
    dirty needles
    .
    Sanela Plisko. I was really touched by this poignant verse! Oh, what painful secrets sometimes hide beneath a facade of purity and innocence!
    .
    no longer scratching
    the old stucco wall
    dead mimosa
    .
    wendy c bialek. Often a plant or tree, slowly but surely, can crack stone — but in this case the wall won. I get the feeling the mimosa just abandoned the struggle.

    1. Thank you Christune for appreciating my haiku …
      all the rain this spring has remained on the terrace wall 🙂

  2. Thanks Debbie Scheving and Radmamani sarma for your comments on my poem!
    Ron
    .
    My favorites this week:
    .
    snow
    covers the ivy
    covers the wall
    Ann Rawson
    .
    Even a weathered wall can have beauty! Nice image, Ann.
    .
    walking by
    the weathered wall –
    my shadow cracked
    Branka Cukrov-Belak
    .
    I see “cracked” as an adjective and not a verb, which I believe adds a lot more depth to this poem. I need to see the weathered nature of other objects/people in order to see the unrealized flaws in my character. Thanks, Branka.
    .
    the wall I leaned on
    when she told me
    gone now
    Christine G
    .
    Nice poem leaving a lot to the imagination! Why was the person leaning? Was it a real wall?
    What did she tell me? What is missing now, i.e., what does the wall represent? Excellent choice of words, Christine.
    .
    weathered barn wood
    the prairie wind
    keeps blowing
    Debbie Scheving
    .
    I have never experienced a prairie wind, Debbie, but I feel in now. Nice poem!
    .
    ignoring the walls
    between your life and mine
    a blackbird’s song
    Eva Limbach
    .
    Excellent choice of words, Eva! Things of beauty help us transcend our petty differences.
    .
    rain trickling down
    the cracked mural –
    her steady gaze
    Janice Munro
    .
    Another poem of mystery! Are these tears? Who is represented in the mural? What does her steady gaze importune? Nice image, Janice.
    .
    good neighbors
    for half a century
    repairing the wall
    Peggy Hale Bilbro
    .
    In the suburbs we have fences and don’t know our neighbors. We may need “walls” but the greater need for repair seems to have vanished. Thanks, Peggy, for this reminder!
    .
    Looking forward to next week.
    Ron
    .

  3. lingering spring
    the weathered adobe, still home
    for sparrows
    .
    Steve Tabb
    .
    This is worthy of comment, as it seems easily redeemable. The comma just kills the rhythm, and is syntactically unnecessary.
    .
    Also, why spring? Weathered and still are suggestive of autumn.

    1. I am sorry you do not like this one. Please forgive me. Spring brings sparrows to mind, and many live in abandoned adobe buildings in areas I know. The contrast of the enduring life of sparrows and the weathered adobe seems interesting to me. I will try to do a better job in the future.

      1. Nothing to forgive.
        If you are going for the dialectic, perhaps “spring again” or “another spring”, along those lines.
        Spring and the sparrows returning, and the adobe fading away.

      2. Your verse would make me think of fall, too, with the word “still” —only because English sparrows (or house sparrows) stay around here all winter when the other birds are gone. Mind you, we don’t have adobe walls here. 🙂
        Reading it without the word “still”, it sounds more spring-like, but maybe changes the sense too much?
        lingering spring
        the weathered adobe
        home for sparrows

  4. Another Wednesday with the wonder of haiku – so much meaning in so few words! The one that struck me the most this week:
    weathered wall
    all the Hindu gods
    in line Radhamani Sarma
    The suggestion that all the gods are united in their weathered state is intriguing.
    Thanks, Craig, for including my poem in this week’s selection.

  5. Reading all of these was such a pleasure. So many unique responses to the idea of an old wall. Here are a few of my favorites

    weathered wall-
    a hint of the height marks
    left behind
    arvinder Kaur
    Chandigarh, India
    .
    Oh my, haven’t we all measured children’s height against a wall? This haiku leaves a sense of abandonment, but with the echoes of family still faintly heard.
    .
    .
    weathered barn wood
    the prairie wind
    keeps blowing
    Debbie Scheving
    Bremerton, WA
    .
    This is a great sensory haiku. I can hear the prairie wind.
    .
    .
    a sunbeam
    on my last name
    memorial wall
    Edward Cody Huddleston
    .
    Such a poignant poem. Anyone who has visited the Vietnam Nam wall in Washington DC will feel the sorrow in these words.
    .
    .
    fallen
    through the old wall
    a piece of sky

    Kath Abela Wilson
    Pasadena, California
    .
    My very, very favorite poem of this week’s collection! That last line is so unexpected and it just opens the wall up to an infinity!
    .
    .
    wallpaper
    peeling off in layers
    family history

    Rehn Kovacic
    .
    This poem goes beautifully with Avinder’s poem about the height marks. Two nicely evocative memories of family life.
    .
    .
    Thanks so much, Craig, for including my poem among those selected, and for the work you do to keep this column going.
    Peggy Bilbro

  6. Thank you everyone for such a rich collection of haiku and commentary. And thank you Craig for allowing mine to be here as well. One haiku that was very strong for me this morning is Eva Limbach’s. Though the blackbird is oblivious to the human torment alluded to, using the word ‘ignoring’ touches a felt experience of nature’s indifference and a liberating realization of a larger reality beyond the walls between us:
    .
    ignoring the walls
    between your life and mine
    a blackbird’s song
    .
    Eva Limbach
    Germany
    .
    I also was particularly struck by Myron Arnold’s:
    .
    resettlement-
    icebergs drift past
    long abandoned homes
    .
    Myron Arnold
    Newfoundland
    .
    On first reading I had a vision of the impact of melting icebergs on lives in the North, but a quick internet search revealed another story about the resettlement of fishing villages in Newfoundland from 1954 to 1975: The Ghost Villages of Newfoundland—https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/newfoundland-abandoned-resettlement-villages.amp. A powerful haiku.

  7. So many resonated,especially the following

    mother’s eyes…
    the unknown portrait
    on the rough wall

    Adrian Bouter

    The unknown takes this ku to another level

    memory
    of the water-
    spots on the wall

    Angiola Inglese

    very evocative

    weathered wall
    all Hindu Gods
    in line
    .
    Radhamani sarma

    I loved the simplicity and of course the familiarity of this image. Part of our everyday lives.

    incessant rain
    on the weathered wall
    “i will love you forever”

    Giovanna Restuccia

    Beautiful and poignant

    a sunbeam
    on my last name
    memorial wall

    Edward Cody Huddleston

    just love it when the sunbeams highlight something
    *
    *
    fallen
    through the old wall
    a piece of sky

    Kath Abela Wilson

    Loved the simplicity and the flow

    childhood home
    the ivy hiding
    years of neglect

    Vandana Prashar

    Very well done and reminiscent of our childhood homes
    .

    Thanks Craig for including my poem

  8. fallen
    through the old wall
    a piece of sky
    ~Kathabela Wilson

    Lovely! I have seen blasted walls in war zones and even here in South Central Los Angeles and East Los where I taught. Sky shows us of where we are from and where we are going. Beautiful!

    a sunbeam
    on my last name
    memorial wall

    ~Edward Cody Huddleston

    Brilliant! So evocative. Just after Memorial Day and Armed Forces Day I think of my father and all my ancestors who protected our Freedom. I still visit him at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in San Diego, and the sun is still shining although there are clouds on the horizon.

    weeping willow’s quiver
    on the prison wall
    his numbered days

    ~Christina Pecoraro

    prison walls
    our stories told
    by graffiti

    ~Jackie Chou
    Pico Rivera, CA, USA

    ghost prison –
    climber weeds escape
    over the wall

    ~Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
    Fairlawn, Ohio, USA

    These three got my attention because I am a proponent of Freedom and prison is its antithesis. Yet some of those in prison are there because they took away others’ freedom, property, even lives. But some are in prison because they stood up for Freedom or were simply the wrong whatever for whichever dictatorship or tyranny. I became a teacher to try to help kids find freedom because knowledge is power. Sometimes wished I’d been a builder or other professional after banging my head against the wall for decades. At least a carpenter can drive by and say he built that house, built that school. the teacher wonders if her student went to Harvard or Berkeley, or to the University of San Quentin. I ran into a former student at a restaurant years ago. He said, “Mister. You were right! You told me to stay out of trouble! I got busted. I went to jail. But look at me now! I got a wife, a kid, a job!” He gestured toward his family. My heart soared.
    Perhaps poetry can help kids think before they act, to act in a responsible and respectful way.

    1. My heart soared too, Charles, reading your commentary.
      .
      Thanks so much for telling why you chose to become a teacher. And for believing that perhaps poetry can spring the locks of prisons — of all sorts. ( I say that as one privileged to teach refugees for years.)
      .
      Loved the story of a former student of yours.
      With you and others am moved especially by Kath Abela Wilson’s ku and Edward Cody Huddleston’s. Others too.
      .
      Am grateful to Craig for putting my own in such exalted company.
      .
      Amazing, isn’t it, how one ku plays off another and another, enhancing each along the way.

  9. Margaret Walker’s haiku really resonated with me. Anyone who has seen kudzu knows how it takes over. I could imagine the barn’s side painted black with a Mail Pouch tobacco ad.
    .
    Thanks Craig for selecting mine. Greatly appreciated it.

    1. Nancy,
      Thank you for your comments. Clearly, you are familiar with both kudzu and tobacco barns!

      1. Yes, to both. The first time I saw kudzu covering trees, I thought it pretty until I realized differently how it was strangling everything in its path. Just saw a photo of a Mail Pouch the other day and then I read your haiku. A simple leap for.me
        ..

  10. As always, I enjoyed reading all of these. I never cease to be amazed by both the differences in interpretation of the prompt and the amazing number of similarities.

    A few were favorites – possibly because they tugged at something in my own experience or memory or simply made me want to know the rest of the story!

    fallen
    through the old wall
    a piece of sky

    Kath Abela Wilson

    A beautiful image!

    ……….

    wartime pillbox
    on a weathered wall
    scribbled letters

    Marta Chocilowska

    I quite simply wanted to know more – What were the scribbled letters? Who put them there?

    …………

    holding it up
    or tearing it down
    wild grape on the barn

    Michelle L. Harvey

    We had a gazebo surely supported by the very grape vines that were slowly destroying it. I was afraid to cut back the vines for fear the entire structure would fall. Thank you for the memory!

    ……….

    under the grime
    and under the soot –
    a scrawled heart

    Pris Campbell

    More questions – How long ago? Did the love endure? An actual wall or the “grime and soot” of a difficult relationship – this one makes me want to know the rest of the story.

  11. I appreciate

    fallen
    through the old wall
    a piece of sky

    Kath Abela Wilson

    It’s a well written and built haiku.
    Its simplicity struck me: the emptiness filled up, wow! lovely!

  12. Thank you, Craig, for selection of my haiku. All of them are exceptional and breathtaking.
    Greetings from Croatia!

  13. weeping willow’s quiver
    on the prison wall
    his numbered days

    Christina Pecoraro

    prison walls
    our stories told
    by graffiti

    Jackie Chou
    Pico Rivera, CA, USA

    ghost prison –
    climber weeds escape
    over the wall

    Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
    Fairlawn, Ohio, USA

    I wrote about a prison. I was surprised to see two other poets did also. This illustrates how haiku is a link between poets who are strangers to each other.

  14. under the grime
    and under the soot—
    a scrawled heart

    Pris Campbell

    a nice tribute to everlasting love

    1. I was caught by your haiku, although I didn’t know why! 🙂
      .
      I did really like ghost prison:
      .
      .
      ghost prison –
      climber weeds escape
      over the wall
      .
      Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
      Fairlawn, Ohio, USA
      .
      .
      But then I read it might be related to:
      .
      .
      Ghost detainee is a term used in the executive branch of the United States government to designate a person held in a detention center, whose identity has been hidden by keeping them unregistered and therefore anonymous – Wikipedia
      .
      or Secret CIA prisons (a.k.a. Black Sites)
      .
      or
      .
      In military terminology, a black site is a location at which an unacknowledged black operation …. A further 100 ghost detainees kidnapped in Europe and ” rendered” to other countries must be counted, …. Some Guantanamo Bay detainees report being tortured in a prison they called “the dark prison” WIKIPEDIA
      .
      I actually met Clive Stafford Smith, who liked my nickname for him as: “Clive of the Underworld”
      .
      .
      Of course I’m guessing your wonderful haiku has nothing to do with the dark arts:
      .
      .
      ghost prison –
      climber weeds escape
      over the wall
      .
      Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
      Fairlawn, Ohio, USA
      .
      .
      But it speaks volumes to me, and all the attacks on any kind of freedoms from all sectors of society, and government etc…
      .
      Exceptional haiku, even if I’ve read it differently from your intent.

        1. Thanks! 🙂
          .
          Often a well-crafted haiku will offer additional layers whether the author designed the poem to have other treasures to be unearthed or not. 🙂

          1. “Often a well-crafted haiku will offer additional layers whether the author designed the poem to have other treasures to be unearthed or not.”
            Alan Summers

            This comment (following the detailed analysis of Valentina”s strong poem) is so well stated—and true for all art.

            Thanks, much.

  15. I loved the simplicity and depth of Eva Limbach’s:
    .
    ignoring the walls
    between your life and mine
    a blackbird’s song
    .
    It does not matter if one interprets the poem negatively, as maybe it was meant. Listening to nature so often softens and defuses worries and concentrates the mind elsewhere, at least for the moment. The song of the common blackbird is as magnificent and varied as any caged canary or nightingale, startling in its clarity, and for me in this poem, no other bird would have taken its place.

  16. Thank you for selecting my poem, Craig! In this nice collection I especially like these:
    *
    *
    a sunbeam
    on my last name
    memorial wall

    Edward Cody Huddleston
    *
    *
    fallen
    through the old wall
    a piece of sky

    Kath Abela Wilson
    *
    *
    tobacco barn
    kudzu
    creeping closer

    Margaret Walker

    1. Thank you Marta! I am so pleased that you liked it.

      I hope to have time later this evening to comment on a few of my favorites.

  17. Thank you for including my haiku, Craig.
    .
    My favourite this week is:

    .incessant rain
    on the weathered wall
    “i will love you forever”

    Giovanna Restuccia

  18. Thank you for including my haiku, Craig.
    .
    My favourite this week is:
    .
    childhood home
    the ivy hiding
    years of neglect
    .
    by Vandana Parashar

    This haiku is so well constructed, with a great depth of meaning. It reminds me of my childhood home.

  19. So many good ones from around the world! I would love to read this haiku in Italian:

    incessant rain
    on the weathered wall
    “i will love you forever”

    Giovanna Restuccia
    Italy

    1. Thanks Roberta for your attention.
      In Italian we use too much words to translate weathered, so my translation is a little bit distant from the english haiku.

      pioggia incessante
      sul muro abbandonato
      “ti amerò per sempre “

      1. that’s wonderful! thank you! i can understand a bit of italian as in childhood i heard my grandparents speak in sicilian dialect.

    1. I really enjoyed the poem (and craft and technique):
      .
      .
      weathered wall
      all Hindu Gods
      in line
      .
      Radhamani sarma
      .
      .
      It just resonates! And only seven words! 🙂

      1. To Alan Summers

        Dear esteemed poet,
        Warm greetings. As your ardent disciple, ( senryu) always encouraged, learning every day. Thank you so much for your kind words of appreciation.

  20. Thank you for including my contribution this week.
    I was intrigued by an iceberg haiku from Newfoundland.
    .
    resettlement –
    icebergs drift past
    long abandoned homes
    .
    Myron Arnold
    .
    .
    rugged face in the mirror
    weathered wall
    still standing
    .
    Ronald K. Craig
    .
    I liked rugged and weathered together, and the flatness of mirror and wall.
    .
    .
    a sunbeam
    on my last name
    memorial wall
    .
    Edward Cody Huddleston
    .
    Every word.

    1. I loved your haiku!
      .
      .
      weathered barn wood
      the prairie wind
      keeps blowing
      .
      Debbie Scheving
      Bremerton, WA
      .
      .
      It’s one of those haiku that are a joy to read, as someone elsewhere said or described, it has great “mouthfeel” to it.
      .
      It’s sublime and incredibly addictive in wanting to re-read it numerous times!

      1. Thank you Alan for your comments. The barn image is of a specific barn in Wyoming where I spent a few months and means a lot to me. Debbie

        1. It reads special, and I’m glad that carries across to us, the reader.
          .
          I find haiku to be wonderful mementoes when written well. I bet you can remember various things of not just that day or days, but other things unrelated to the barn and the wind too.
          .
          It’s a brilliant gift when we write haiku that catch an actual experience, and I bet you will get to write a few more over the coming year from that special time, thanks to that barn! 🙂

  21. Craig, thank you for including my poem this week. I look forward to reading all – and the comments.

    1. Just to mention I spotted your next brilliant short haiku! 🙂
      .
      .
      tobacco barn
      kudzu
      creeping closer
      .
      Margaret Walker
      .
      .
      For me, it was Lantana, the tree killer, while doing landcare in Queensland, Australia. Love how kudzu is just right as a one word middle line!

        1. tobacco barn
          kudzu
          creeping closer

          So good! I can see the kudzu creeping closer to the barn but also the owner of the barn probably isn’t around to care for it. Possibly because of some illness related to tobacco which is also something that is gradual and takes over. So few words but timeless and deep. Love it!

          1. Thank you Rich! These barns are as abandoned as the tobacco fields themselves. Almost ghostly reminders of a once thriving industry.
            I very much appreciated your observation about the possible health of the owners. I really had not thought of them quite that way. Perhaps more as “defeated” by a dying industry – but certainly health concerns related to their livelihood could be an issue. Thanks for helping me see a new perspective.

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