re:Virals 580

“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 Susan Yavaniski. This week’s poem, chosen by Dan Campbell was:

     
rest area
the cattle truck
filled with eyes
—Tom Clausen, Upstate Dim Sum 2026:1

Introducing this poem, Dan writes:

The intensity of this haiku lies in its final line, “filled with eyes.” With these three words, the poet transforms an ordinary roadside observation into a moving encounter with the lives of other creatures. What begins as a familiar scene—a cattle truck parked at a rest area—becomes something unsettling. The animals are not described as cattle or livestock. They are presented simply as eyes. Eyes are the most expressive feature in any living creature. They suggest awareness, vulnerability, curiosity, and the mysterious presence of an inner life. To say that the truck is “filled with eyes” is to recognize that its occupants are not merely cargo. They are conscious beings capable of observing the world, experiencing their surroundings and sensing something of their circumstances.

Host comment (Susan):

Capturing a moment in time with three narrowing views of a familiar scene, Clausen’s verse opens with a wide-angle view of a roadside “rest area,” where travelers from all walks of life take a break from the highway to cater to their biological needs. A fragment that does double-duty, the two words suggest not just the rest stop per se, with its toilets and picnic tables and vending machines, but any conceivable place where one can rest the body, or the mind, in this world of non-stop motion. Whether it be a park bench or a temple, a landscape or a flower, “rest area” connotes a place of relief and respite.

The ensuing image zooms closer, corralling the reader, as it did the poet, from a place of comfort to one of discomfort and even sorrow. Like the highway rest area, “the cattle truck” is a symbol of modern efficiency, but a more disturbing one. One need not be schooled in the particulars of livestock shipping ¹ for this image to summon a sense of unease. Not only does it evoke the myriad ethical and moral problems of the industrialized food supply, it also hearkens to images of Nazi Germany and of human trafficking.

Additionally, “the cattle truck” reads as one half of a somewhat ironic equation: “rest area : the cattle truck.” The verse asks the reader to pause, and “rest” with this image of ugliness and its accompanying feelings, in the same way one might rest one’s mind on those images of beauty more often presented in English-language haiku. The final close-up “filled with eyes”—or, if read aloud—”filled with I’s”, deeply unsettles, framing as it does the gaze of the presumably doomed occupants, and emphasizing that the occupants are “I’s” no less than the reader, or the listener, is.

Clausen’s spare succession of ever-more detailed images distill powerful emotions from a not-uncommon situation, one which a reader might otherwise shy away from contemplating. In words which could well be said of this week’s verse, Clausen has written that for him, “Haiku are kernels of truth, unadulterated by opinion, emotion, thought or desire. They stand bare-boned and crystal clear to exact the truth of what is.” ² Looking ever more closely at the details of life and what sustains it, be it the food supply, clothing, warmth, or medicine, is to discover that these things invariably depend in some part upon the sufferings of others. It’s certainly not a novel insight, but it is an ancient one, and one that is perennially helpful, sparking as it can both a greater gratitude for the comforts we enjoy , and deeper empathy for those responsible for them.

Belinda Behne:

I have been a visitor to some of the Western US states and have seen some livestock trucks, wondering what or who is being transported inside.

At first, this haiku seems to have a very specific concrete image that addresses my senses. I can see the rest area, the big trucks parked. I can smell the diesel and hear the livestock. And then there is the powerful pull of those eyes!

Whose eyes are we witnessing inside this truck? What a great invitation to wonder about the animals inside, are they being treated well? Where are they going, where are they coming from? Who are the drivers of these trucks? There is a much bigger story here! I love being invited to explore through contemplating the possibilities of what at first seemed to be a very visual straightforward image that I could see, hear and smell. This verse opens my heart and imagination as well.

Sudha Devi Nayak:

It has been a long day’s journey into the night and beyond. The cattle truck lumbers along chock full of animals and arrives at a rest area for the driver and his assistants to stop, relax and refresh themselves before moving on. Meanwhile the animals in the truck are just eyes, glazed over, unblinking, wondering where they are being led to.

Without a past or a future, without memory living solely in the moment, they have no idea. In their bewildered puzzlement, and in their incapacity to understand, there are no yesterdays or todays but just the present moment and a yearning to be free, to get back to their bovine lives, their cattle sheds or green fields munching grass in peace in a friendlier environment.

Little do they know whether they are being transported for sale or on their way to the slaughter house. This is the height of man’s inhumanity to other life forms, a violation of the innocence they are born and die in. All the reader is conscious of is a number of eyes looking at her not for sympathy or succour but with impassive resignation enough to send one on a massive guilt trip, the eyes that can haunt you forever.

Cows are sacred in Hinduism, symbolic of life, nurture and non-violence, and the deep connection with nature. But this has also given rise to cow vigilantism in India where cattle trucks are intercepted by mobs who “police” the cattle trade and suspected slaughter, leading to intimidation and violence, and sparking communal tensions. Though cattle slaughter is not officially banned at the national level, cattle laws are strictly regulated at the state level, certain states banning it altogether.

If a haiku is the act of writing in invisible ink, this haiku does it. So much has been said in words unsaid, the words that can never quite express the silence of the eyes.

Urszula Marciniak:

Some people will not eat anything that has eyes. Others will, but only on the condition that the food has been processed in such a way that no eyes are visible anymore.

Sometimes, however, one might unexpectedly encounter the gaze of creatures being led to their deaths. Is their gaze truly so different from a human’s? Perhaps. There is no deceit or cruelty in it—only the shock that the very person who fed them and cared for them is now the one leading them, while they know perfectly well what awaits at the end of the path.

In such moments, the easiest thing to do is simply to turn one’s head away—and not look.

Radhamani Sarma:

This verse about a cattle truck invites our attention and interest. The first line describes a place where one can refresh, relax, and cool off before continuing the road trips with a load. After a long drive, truck drivers rest for awhile. For a non-stop drive, a rest area is often the only opportunity for any relief—for a small nap, for relaxation, or to stretch, etc.

The second and third lines, “the cattle truck/ filled with eyes” make a reader wonder, whose eyes? Maybe the innocent confined cattle, their eyes looking at each other… what else could be done? Human beings will, in vain, object to the cattle’s karma or fate; but all their previous births’ sins have resulted in this particular janma (birth), and in these chains.

Another viable line of interpretation is that traffic inspectors are conducting a periodical check-up on the truckers, to determine whether they are properly licensed, whether their vehicles are well-aligned, and so forth. Hence, a cattle truck “filled with eyes.” Such vigilance in all walks of life is essential for our well-being. An article in the newspaper The Hindu (Chennai 02 November/ 2026), describes how a sizable number of illegal cattle were transported in a truck and some responsible person with his wary eyes, observed the leakage of dung and urine and took action and the police intervened.

Be it animals, birds, humans and non-humans, “eyes” play a very significant roll. Here are some quotes on “eyes:”

“The eyes are the window to your soul.” and “…we are the consciousness of the earth. We are the eyes of the earth and this is the voice of the earth.” (Joseph Campbell)

Alan Summers:

How often nowadays is there a cattle truck or container ship or storage yard containing trafficked children and women. Even in my own home town there have been arrests. Although I’m not Jewish by DNA I did have a relative murdered at Auschwitz (Fascist-era Germany). Fascism has once again proved popular, and it was shocking back in the 1930s the high-ranking people and businesses who profited from trafficked humans. We still love those companies by the way. Of course cattle trucks contain other mammals such as cows, or avian species such as chickens and turkeys. We thrive on maltreatment, we often go to any ‘fast’ food outlet, though never track back everything to do with each one. Whether cows, or chickens, which we visibly and incontrovertibly witness, society mostly allows various containers to go unchecked; money is money after all.

The irony is it’s a rest area, and we know it’s just for the human driver(s) and not whoever/whatever is held captive in the secured area out in the back. We seem to support freedom but then we embrace our surveillance toys such as smartphones, smart televisions, other electronic devices that track us or listen and use our private and intimate conversations and other acts at home with Siri or Gemini, Alexa, or Bixby that adds Gemini to its spyware on private law-abiding citizens. I have read many haiku noting these passing trucks with ‘livestock’ over the decades, and I’m sure we’ll read more until we cannot for various and obvious reasons.

Other terms are even more chilling:

North America (USA & Canada):
Travel plaza / Service plaza: Larger commercial stops that feature food courts, gas stations, and convenience stores.
Truck stop: A dedicated stop designed largely for semi-truck drivers, offering fuel, showers, and heavy-vehicle parking.
Pull-off / Pullout: A small paved lane or pocket off the side of the road for a quick brake check or phone call.

United Kingdom & Commonwealth:
Motorway services: Large commercial complexes off a motorway with fuel, food, and washrooms.
Services: The common shorthand used by UK drivers (e.g., “stopping at the next services”).
Lay-by / Layby: A small paved area at the side of a road where vehicles stop temporarily (often without extensive or any toilet facilities

General & Regional Alternatives:
Pit stop: An informal term borrowed from racing for a quick break to stretch, eat, or refuel.
Picnic area: roadside stop with tables and benches.

We know that whether this is human cattle or other cattle, they won’t be allowed to stretch their legs outside.

A disturbing haiku about whoever or whatever those others are, who have filled the cattle truck with their eyes.

Ashoka Weerakkody:

Tom Clausen’s haiku could perhaps be lengthened a bit, with a line too many, to read as, rest area /  the cattle truck /  filled with eyes / filled with tears.  That is what I felt, first and foremost.

But mercifully, fourth lines are not yet salutary in conventional haiku, and the picture-perfect poetry here makes one ‘see’ the static image, without having to dig into the vaults of acquired ‘wisdom’ at all.

In “rest area,” the present moment is captured as it stands, a fleeting second the poem acknowledges as a single frame, within which the ‘kigo,” in its broad bandwidth, blurs into the faint horizon and the narrowed ‘iris’ of the moment stays.

We begin to feel the passing of time from then onwards. Time is the only entity that isn’t held in captivity within “the cattle truck,” into which the poet gazes from the distance, the distance from where Basho watched the frog, jumping into the pond of old. But unlike then, the present vision does not carry any movement or sound, like the splash which came from the disturbed waters and the waves born of it.

Here the silent sorrow of the captive animals is only discernible to the outside free world in the poet sees the truck—“full of eyes.”

The prominance of the glistening eyes gazing out at the open and free happy space they are debarred from, strikes the poet, blinding him to every other thing around which fades into insignificance.

For the observer and  the reader, the boundless sorrow that engulfs the scene is unbearable, for that fleeting second passing into nothingness never to return. 

That’s what Tom Clausen has captured, and like a classic old monochrome photograph taken through a pinhole camera, developed, chemically fixed and curated for anyone to frame. . .  and hide.

Carol Reynolds—the good, the bad, and the ugly

This haiku returned me immediately to a scene which for some 15 years was commonplace as I drove south to a country getaway in the Riverina, a rural region in southern New South Wales, Australia. Born and bred in the city, it was during those years I developed a deep appreciation for country life. The good, the bad and the ugly. 

One of my early experiences was being invited by a neighbouring farmer to watch the loading of a truck to transport sheep to market. It was life changing. I determined then that you would have to grow up in this environment to be able to routinely send animals to market that you had raised from birth and regularly looked into their trusting eyes.

The first two lines set the scene of a cattle truck parked in a rest area which, outside of city limits, most passers by would disregard and consider just part of the landscape. The third line however seems to purposefully change focus to the precious cargo within as the writer sees only eyes looking out through the ventilation slots in the side of the truck. In so doing, he feels empathy for the occupants and assumes they are most likely about to face their demise. 

For me this haiku takes you on a journey with so much more to explore than can be expressed in 500 words. Modern farming practices, food equality, vegetarian and veganism, land and environmental management are just a few.

Perhaps the writer is sending a message for everyone to give more thought to and have more respect for the land that grows our crops and nurtures our animals, for our farmers and all the people involved in the chain that connects us to the food we enjoy on our tables each and every day.

With thanksgiving festivals about to be celebrated in many countries around the world perhaps now is that time.

Author Tom Clausen:

While driving cross country a couple years ago with my wife, we would make stops at rest areas to stretch and walk around. It was in Wyoming that I wrote this little poem and it was the type of poem where it wrote itself quite literally.  We were at a rest area so that became line one. While we walked around, a cattle truck pulled in perpendicular to and near our car, so when we returned to our car it was plain and sad to see this truck was filled with cows, and so the cattle truck became line two. We had been seeing these cattle trucks when we drove west from Ithaca, N.Y. to Portland, Oregon to visit our son, and each sighting was a dreaded reminder of how these cows, so visible in the vast open spaces of range lands in the mid-west and the big sky Great Plains states especially, would at some given time be rounded up and loaded in a cattle truck, to be transported to their fate in a feedlot or directly to a slaughterhouse-processing place. It has been a deep sorrow for much of my life to know how too many sentient beings—cows, pigs, sheep, chickens and others—are treated in the near endless human demand for the meat that these sentient beings are turned into. I could see the eyes of those cows and could imagine myself being in the cattle truck with them and how it must feel to be crowded in and anxiously unsure why or where we were going.

We left the rest area but that image stayed with me and  through empty miles I mulled over the conundrum that is the long road of our predatory instincts and how mechanized is our treatment of animals whose lives have feelings, emotions, sensing abilities that are undeniable. I have observed how even in the tiniest of insects there is a genuine innate desire to survive and in just the most subtle shift of my shadow over them how quickly they flee to save themselves.

This little poem-haiku is about one cattle truck filled with cows and yet it is about the thousands of similar trucks that pick up and transport livestock from their home on the range to the place designated for their execution. It is a certain sorrow to see an empty cattle truck, but even worse to see one filled. They both are  sober reminders of the way our society functions.

I have seen videos of cows playing, frolicking and showing affection for each other and for humans which makes a cattle truck filled with eyes troubling if not outright abysmal. I felt that the last line “filled with eyes” would bring the reader a focus to the most intimate feeling connection that might be made with the cows on what was likely to their final fateful destination.

There were no revisions to this haiku and it was a simply sad observation with a ponderous amount of feeling for those cows and all those sentient beings sentenced to the food processing machine that supplies the markets of our country.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary spotlighted this week, Carol Reynolds 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. Please note that commentaries must be your own personal work.

Poem for commentary:

second-hand bookshop
red wine stains
on the Rubaiyat

—André Surridge (1951-2019)
from his book ‘One Hundred Petals’

Bio:  Tom Clausen is a lifelong Ithacan and a member of the Rt. 9 Haiku Group. He developed an interest in haiku and other brief poetic forms in the late 1980s, recognizing his need for more discipline in his writing attempts. An article in the Ithaca Times showcasing Ruth Yarrow’s haiku was the pivot point influencing his interest. He lives in the same house where he grew up with his wife, Berta, and their little dog, Toby. They have two adult children, Casey and Emma. Tom enjoys daily walks about the fields, woods, and the nearby neighborhood, taking photos, reading and writing little poems and listening to the music that has been the soundtrack of his life. Tom has curated a daily haiku feature at A.R. Mann Library at Cornell University where he worked for over 37 years.

Awards and Other Honors Include:

First Place, The Mildred Kanterman Memorial Book Award (Haiku Society of America, 2014) [for Laughing to Myself,  Free Food Press, 2015].

Touchstone Distinguished Books Award for 2023 for the volume One Day (Ithaca, NY: Stark Mountain Press Book 2023).

Books Published: Autumn Wind in the Cracks (self-published, 1994); Unraked Leaves (self-published, 1995); A Work of Love [tanka] (Tiny Poems Press, 1997); Standing Here (self-published, 1998); Homework (Snapshot Press, 2000); being there (Swamp Press, 2005); Growing Late [tanka] (Snapshot Press, 2006); Laughing to Myself (Free Food Press, 2013). My Own Heart [tanka]( Free Food Press, 2021 ); One Day (Ithaca, NY: Stark Mountain Press Book 2023).

Tom’s website: tom clausen | poems and photos
Upstate Dim Sum website: Upstate Dim Sum: A Biannual Anthology of Haiku and Senryu
Mann Library Daily Haiku website: Mann Library’s Daily Haiku | Featuring one guest author per month

Footnotes:

¹ Livestock Trucking Guide, Livestock Management Practices that Reduce Injuries to Livestock During Transport, Dr. Temple Grandin, September 2001 National Institute for Animal Agriculture

² A Haiku Way of Life,  Tom Clausen, 1998

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