Sunday morning

Sunday morning --
the skink's blue tail
never still

newly planted

newly planted
our banana tree
droops

after Communion

after Communion
he kneels, fumbles
to check his phone

in the shade

in the giant agave's shade
            a ring
    of younger agaves

closing her eyes

closing her eyes
my wife
catches her first wave

a haiku from Muriel Rukeyser

The sea
comes toward me
               across the sea


 [excised from Muriel Rukeyser's "The Outer Banks", discovered in the North Carolina Literary Review, issue no.14 (2005)]

Don Wentworth on R.H. Blyth

Don Wentworth -- editor of the Lilliput Review and Issa's Untidy Hut haiku blog -- recently posted a brilliant riff on R.H. Blyth. It begins:

"Sometimes, it seems that R. H. Blyth is to modern American haiku as Sigmund Freud is to modern psychology: a bit of a dotty old granddad, overdressed in a woolen suit on a hot, humid day, crumbs of this and that all down his front, with a glint in his eye of philosophical shenanigans none too pleasing to the parents in attendance.

Of course, all the grand kids are jumping up and down in his lap like there's no tomorrow."

Hmm -- taken out of the context of the full essay that sounds more negative than it should (funny and accurate as it is). The piece turns into more of an appreciation as it goes on, though.

For the full post, check out http://lilliputreview.blogspot.com/2012/05/r-h-blyth-aim-of-haiku.html.