the river trickles.
but its broad shoulders tell
of expectations.
Future River [Haiku]
Reply
muddy clogs
beside each gate;
Spring is here.
"don't swat!"
the fly rubs its hands,
then rubs its feet.
autumn rain,
a small sumo wrestler
pushes through.
sleeping in a row,
the Shinano mountains:
under snow blanket.
In Japanese:
門門の下駄の泥より春立ちぬ
やれ打つな蠅が手を摺り足をする
秋の雨小さき角力通りけり
寝ならぶやしなのの山も夜の雪
From: Wilson, William Scott. 2023. A Beginners Guide to Japanese Haiku. North Clarendon, VT: Tuttle Publishing, 224pp.
I I remember Spring: tight and tender buds, soon to blossom clouds -- low & swollen, & rain scent in the air
II I remember Summers: the season of freedom... and mosquitoes, but, also, fireflies exploration & calamine lotion
III I remember the Fall: harvest time Grain chaff in the air axle grease on the wind Canadian geese Honk-Honk-Honk-ing in wedge formation
IV
I remember winters:
snow days
snow drifts
the feel of the first morning
of the season in which
one woke up to a blanketing snow,
having gone to bed with
pathetic matted grass
The forest looks painted with dabs of bright color, a pointillist mural of the leaves' last hurrah. Soon, it'll turn twiggy, and sing desolation, and invite the fog in to soften sharp lines. Then one day you'll notice leaves glowing in sunlight. Their green will be golden from warm yellow rays. The maturing forest will darken its greenness, turning to sober tones that blot out the light.