re:Virals 551

“More difficult than making your own verses interesting is understanding those of others…” ―Shinkei (1406 –1475). Citing this, Onitsura (1661 – 1738) wrote: “…this should be a way in which a person is completely given over to training.”

Welcome to re:Virals, The Haiku Foundation’s weekly commentary feature on some of your favorites among the best contemporary haiku and senryu written in English. In the host chair today is Shawn Blair. This week’s poem, chosen by Urszula Marciniak was:

   
last Valentine's Day—
all the socks in my drawer
mismatched
—Mariola Grabowska,
 Asahi Haikuist Network, March 20, 2026 

Introducing this poem, Urszula writes:

We have more and more choices, including when it comes to life partners. The internet has drastically expanded the pool of candidates.

Does this make finding someone easier? Not necessarily. On the contrary, it’s easier to search. You don’t have to rush like you used to. Searching is enjoyable and doesn’t involve making decisions or taking responsibility for their consequences.

Sometimes socks just don’t match. It’s hard to find the right pair in such a large drawer. Maybe it’s worth choosing two different ones. It’ll be original and not boring. It doesn’t matter that people say they don’t match.

However, I think the author meant that in the excitement before the date, it was difficult to find matching outfits. It doesn’t matter what you ultimately choose. The important thing is that there’s chemistry between you, subtle and lasting, not fleeting and explosive. The kind that gives you the joy of socks as a birthday gift without expecting diamonds.

Host comment (Shawn):

Trying to find a missing sock before a romantic date could result in a minor outburst—none of my socks match; I’m not doing this anymore; this is my last Valentine’s Day! It is the kind of minor problem we have all experienced, and if we aren’t already amused at ourselves, we laugh about it later. On the other hand, there could be more serious reasons to assert that this Valentine’s Day will be the last. If one has spent years with a romantic partner who will soon pass away, for instance, one could look into a drawer full of socks and feel so disconsolate that even if it were organized by Marie Kondo that drawer could seem all wrong and full of chaos.

Socks are so humble and earthy. Eventually they get holes from landing hard on the heel, or from sharp toenails. When the elastic gets old, they don’t stay up. And more socks’ partners have gone missing than can be counted. I wish it weren’t so. Whether they are a perfect match or not, there’s something uniquely comforting about a decent pair of warm socks.

Veronica Hosking:

I love the self assurance in this haiku. The writer doesn’t care her socks are ‘mismatched’. And on Valentine’s Day shows she will not settle. Either love her for who she is mismatched socks and all or move on. She will not rearrange her sock drawer for chocolates on an arbitrary date.

Sitarama Seshu Maringanti:

The haiku of Mariola Grabowska drew an unsuppressed smile at the plight of the Valentine. He is nonplussed that his wardrobe drawer contained several pairs of socks but each one of a different colour or hue. With possibly only a day to go before Valentine’s Day, he is at his wits’ end as to what he would present as his gift to his lady love in this season of extreme cold and falling temperatures. An enviable plight for a lover to face! Subtle humour packed in three lines of a haiku.

Uma Padmanabhan:

Last Valentines Day was supposed to be about candlelight, wine, and two people who match. Instead, my sock drawer staged a singles mixer and forgot to invite the pairs.

“All the socks in my drawer” is not a statement. It’s a census report from a disaster zone. I opened it expecting order. I got a mosh pit of cotton. There’s a Christmas reindeer sock from 2019 trying to flirt with a gym sock that smells like regret. There’s one dress sock, standing in the corner, judging everyone. It still thinks it’s better than us.

“Mismatched” is too gentle a word. This is not mismatched. This is sock anarchy. This is what happens when your dryer runs an underground dating service and keeps the good ones for itself. I am convinced there is a portal in there. Socks go in as couples and come out as emotionally unavailable bachelors.

The haiku format makes it worse. Nature poems are supposed to be about cherry blossoms and frogs jumping in ponds. This is about a frog-print sock whose partner is now legally declared dead. Where is the justice? Where is the Closure Drawer?

Valentine’s Day promised me romance. My drawer gave me a TED Talk titled “Commitment Issues: A Lint-Covered Study”. I bought chocolates for someone. The socks bought freedom. They said “We’re exploring ourselves” and then moved in with the T-shirts.

The real tragedy? I still try. Every February 14th I fold them hopefully, like a parent setting up a blind date. “You both have heels, maybe talk.” Two days later it’s chaos again. One sock is in the car. One is under the bed. One has become a dust mitt and likes it.

So here’s my review of Last Valentines Day: 1 star. The restaurant was my laundry basket. The mood lighting was the dryer warning light. And my love life is currently being represented by a single SpongeBob sock and a compression sleeve from 2017.

If anyone sees a blue argyle, size 9-11, last seen entering the spin cycle: tell him his partner moved on. She’s now with a black Nike ankle cut. It’s toxic, but at least they’re Warm.

Sudha Devi Nayak:

Valentine’s Day is rooted in Christian martyrdom and ancient Roman festivals, and gradually grew into a celebration of romantic love. Chaucer in his 14th century poem “Parliament of Fowls” connected Valentine’s Day with the mating of birds, transforming it into a day for lovers. “For this was on Seynt Valentynes day, / Whan every brid cometh ther to chese his make” (when every bird comes there to choose his mate) in celebration of love and spring. As the treadmill of life revved up and consumerism reared its ugly head it has become grossly commercialized and a booming industry of gifts, jewellery, fine dining… and extravagance took shape. A precursor could be a Stratford grammar school master Alexander Aspinall in 1570 whose card accompanying a gift of gloves to a lady, read,

The gift is small,
The will is all:
Alexander Aspinall

There are places in the world where Valentine’s Day is also an occasion of moral policing where vigilante groups keep a watch on “delinquent” couples importing foreign festivals.

Valentine’s Day is an expression of love, that sublime emotion that transcends into something grand and hallowed. Dreams take shape, feelings find form, the heart overflows, and the world seems more alive than it ever did. At times Valentine’s Day may not achieve anything permanent but everything is beautiful while it lasts.

The haiku in question is a volte-face. Last Valentine’s Day must have soured for the couple, leaving unpleasant memories in its wake. Everything was a mismatch including the socks worn, in a moment of hurry to get there to see him. She thought of the Valentine’s gift he would give her and the gift she carried close to her heart. It is that moment of youthful giddiness and anticipation. Dreams would grow wings, and a future mapped with love hereafter. “Tread softly because you tread on my dreams”.

Dreams had been trodden on, there was nothing in common, no alignment of hopes and desires, no romance left.

Memories can sadden, as Pablo Neruda says “Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” There will be other Valentine’s Days, we may be older but no wiser, there will be dreams, there will be hopes, there will be fulfilment. Good luck to the haikuist.

Radhamani Sarma:

A satire—a good match is not in looks but hooks.

Man has so many prime Days marked in his calendar such as Birthday, Republic Day, Independence Day, Martyrs’ Day, Valentine’s Day and D-Day. These days have their own special significance. This senryu in particular focusses on a bygone event, recollecting the past, the repercussions etc. There cannot be a present and future without a prime past.

The verse begins, “last Valentine’s Day—”, giving space for readers’ imaginations to delve further. The writer makes a careful mention of the past. The past is always a must, it plays a key roll in our lives. It is imperative for us to know about Valentine’s Day—a day for love and romance as prescribed in the Roman calendar, where matches or pairing is done. One can perceive it as a sort of game, carried successfully in the matrimonial market, where love is in exalted status.

With the following lines, “all the socks in my drawer / mismatched”, the writer establishes a connectivity, thereby a contrast, a disconnection, a mismatch; a subtle humor embedded in the lines. Here, in the lives, sentiments, feelings, everything is judged by inanimate objects like “socks”—not FELLOW FEELING, LOVE, etc. What the writer adumbrates here, in the selection procedure, so many offered in the game of love and partnership—hence so many socks; but unfortunately when they ransacked the drawer, all the socks were mismatched, implying no pleasing or good match-up to the expectations. Socks are the judges in the keen competition of pairing. The result is the mismatch of socks. Another implication is the variation of sizes, which means the AGE factor is another crucial role. All sizes, different age sizes also figure out there, observed by the writer. “When love is in air, age is no bar”.

Mariola Grabowska has construed Valentines Day with a different twist, where flamboyant humor and mild satire run.

Dan Campbell—in quiet harmony:

CRITIQUE OF A POEM BY ROMEO

Line 1: “last Valentine’s Day—”
O cruel remembrance! That day which should be crowned with love’s sweet vows instead returns as a dagger to my heart. For on that fated Valentine’s, hope did bloom—only to wilt before the sunset.

Line 2: “all the socks in my drawer”
Behold, even the humblest garments of my chamber bear witness to my sorrow. These stockings, once paired in quiet harmony, now parted by some cruel command.

Line 3: “mismatched”
Alas! Their broken union mirrors my own undone devotion. If even such lowly threads cannot remain entwined, what hope hath Romeo in love’s cruel game?

Author Mariola Grabowska:

I am very grateful to Urszula Marciniak for noticing my haiku and for thinking it was worth sharing with others.

As mentioned, the haiku was published in the Asahi Haikuist Network column after being selected by Professor David McMurray. It was inspired by a time rich in memories and reflections related to Valentine’s Day traditions and my own personal ones.

To be honest, the haiku really came into its own after the Professor suggested a revision. It was just a small change of a single letter, but it had a big impact on the haiku’s message. I’m grateful that the haiku got this chance. In the first draft, I wrote “lost Valentine’s Day” in the first line; Professor McMurray suggested changing it to “last”.

It was a great lesson for me on how to infuse haiku with deeper meaning rather than relying on simple drama.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Dan Campbell has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. It may be short, to a maximum of 500 words (succinctness will be valued); academic, your personal response, spontaneous, or idiosyncratic.  As long as it focuses on the verse presented, and with respect for the poet, all genuine reader reaction, criticism, and pertinent discussion is of value.   Out-takes are kept in the THF Archives.  Best of all, the chosen commentary’s author gets to pick the next poem.

Anyone can participate. Simply use the re:Virals commentary form below to enter your commentary on the new week’s poem (“Your text”) by the following Tuesday midnight, Eastern US Time Zone, and then press Submit to send your entry. The Submit button will not be available until Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in. We look forward to seeing your commentary and finding out about your favourite poems.

Poem for commentary:

     
dawn chill—
a crow reminds me 
to use my wings 
—Thomas L. Vaultonburg
 The Mamba, Journal of Africa Haiku Network, Issue 19, February 2026

Author Bio:

Mariola Grabowska lives in Warsaw. She is 65 years old, an economist by profession, and currently retired. Since 2007, she has been publishing short poems and prose pieces on literary and social media platforms. Since 2018, she has focused on exploring haiku. Since 2019, she has been a member of the Polish Haiku Association. She publishes haiku in Polish and English-language magazines. She considers her greatest achievement to be winning 3rd place in the 30th International Haiku Competition “Kusamakura” (2025).

re:Virals is co-hosted by Shawn Blair, Melissa Dennison, Susan Yavaniski, and Keith Evetts (managing editor).

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