haiku retrospective cd

Hello anyone who has followed this blog this far.

Today is the 400th post in the haiku retrospective series that I started in January 2011 and expected to last for a few months.

Obviously, I have written a lot more haiku than I believed I had.

It seems fitting to mark this occasion with a time when I did Tim Russell's haiku exercise. You put a short seasonal reference in line 1, and then jot down a series of observations to serve as line 2. Repeat until you have 10 haiku.

Put the haiku in a drawer and do the exercise again tomorrow.

march flies
the knot hole
in the stair rail

march flies
an empty circle of chairs
on the porch

march flies
a cello sonata drifts
through the dusk

march flies
the repeated thud
of an axe

march flies
a trail of golden sap
on the tree trunk

march flies
the rustle of a Stellar's jay
in the live oak

march flies
spanish moss hangs
from the tree limbs

march flies
the young tanoak
so still

march flies
the scolding of the jays
across the canyon

march flies
the soft heads
of last year's velvet grass

march flies
jesse comes up the trail
with a sledgehammer

17 March 2007

haiku retrospective cccxcix

march sunshine
drops of sap
on the old stump

march sunshine
the drone of horse flies
in the trees

march sunshine
the distant call
of a robin

march sunshine
the tap-tap-tapping
of an acorn woodpecker

march sunshine
spiderwebs all the way up
the redwood's trunk

march sunshine
tender red shoots
on the scrub oak

march sunshine
the fiddle tune climbs
the mountain

march sunshine
spanish moss
on the fallen oak branch

march sunshine
the treetops so still
against the blue sky

march sunshine
crushed petals
under the tulip tree

17 March 2007

haiku retrospective cccxcviii

windblown poppies
a black poodle prances
into the party

14 April 2007


spring rain
a potted calla lily
in the garden bed

14 April 2007


seabird cries --
the small boy scratches
his sunburnt nose

15 May 2007

haiku retrospective cccxcvii

black ice --
the oncology report
in dad's hands

black ice --
dad's lymphocyte count
in stark blue ink

black ice --
dad's blood test results
on the passenger seat

black ice --
mom takes dad's test results
with trembling hands

black ice --
dad's voice wavers as he tells me
he's dying

“Black ice” is a good strong image that resonates deeply for me right now.

I've struggled at times with wanting to get medical terminology into haiku but finding the words too long to fit. Sometimes it feels appropriate to stretch the form a bit to get the exact word in. Words like “oncology report” or “carcinoma” have a lot of emotional resonance, and lesser words sometimes won't carry that freight.

winter sea --
my dad tells me he feels great peace
during radiation

23 January 2007

haiku retrospective cccxcvi

frosty morning --
another child starts in
with whooping cough

22 January 2007


hunger moon
another entry
in her diet journal

5 February 2007


easter photos
the freshly brushed poodle
rolls in the grass

13 April 2007

haiku retrospective cccxcv

winter twilight--
a crumpled pile of handkerchiefs
by his chair

21 January 2007


black ice--
dad's last radiation
treatment

21 January 2007


wind-rattled leaves--
the dog wags his tail
at the door

21 January 2007

haiku retrospective cccxciv

november calm
he casts his fishing lure deep
in the outfield grass

first frost
the reflection of my nose
in my tea cup

lingering leaves
the man with einstein hair
zips his jacket

starting over
a pan of burnt rice
in the sink

4 December 2006