for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

picking autumn leaves

picking autumn leaves

off the grass, her grave

nothing but fine rain

October 26, 2010 - Posted by | haiku, poetry | , , , , ,


  1. I like how the line break between the 2nd and 3rd lines creates ambiguity — is her grave nothing but fine rain, or are you picking autumn leaves off the grass and her grave in “nothing but fine rain”?

    Comment by MLA | October 28, 2010 | Reply

    • Bingo!!! Yours is the 100th comment (numbers do come clanging sometimes) I’ve been watching out for, as if I could pull down some stars and cause them to swarm among your red dragonflies. But I dare to honor your comment with this haiku:

      pomegranate seeds
      on bowls, an exchange of hands
      600 haiku

      And thanks for liking my tribute to my mother. The ambiguity reflects my sadness veiled after all these years. More so now because we’ve left her, my father’s and husband’s remains in the old country. Their remains are in a crypt under a church my architect-husband designed. No grave to visit now, really, but in my mind because it’s autumn, I imagine the isolation of a memorial park where almost always, a solitary mourner goes. The “fine rain” is what I feel in this, the actual season of the dead, which to me is both the touch and whisper I so miss of my mother.

      Linking this explanantion to your discussion of David’s research on Issa, a haiku cannot but be written out of the heart or but be imprints of the spirit.

      Thank you so much.

      Comment by alee9 | October 28, 2010 | Reply

      • Wow, a bingo! Do I get a prize? 🙂 Oh — yes, I get this lovely comment & haiku from Alegria! Thanks (and what a wonderful image of stars swarming among dragonflies — there must be a haiku in that but I’ll leave you to write it as it’s your image. 🙂 ).

        Autumn is such a mournful time, grief can seem especially hard this time of year. Especially on rainy days …

        I have not yet visited my father’s grave. It’s a thousand miles away — not as far away as your mother’s grave but not someplace I can drop by on a routine basis. I wish I could in a way. I have always liked cemeteries because they somehow seem like reminders to me that life goes on.

        “A haiku cannot but be written out of the heart” — that’s wonderfully put. Do you mind if I borrow it (attributed, of course) for an essay I am writing about making haiku reflections of our internal emotional states?

        Comment by MLA | October 29, 2010

      • Yes, please do! I’d be honored!

        Thank you so much again.

        And here’s an attempt “to haiku” the image you like:

        swarming on a pool

        Comment by alee9 | October 29, 2010

  2. Great haiku! I am definitely saving that one…

    Comment by MLA | October 29, 2010 | Reply

    • Thanks again! Please read “take 3 (edit)” as well.

      Comment by Alegria Imperial | October 29, 2010 | Reply

  3. Strange this post is totaly unrelated to what I was searching google for, but it was listed on the first page. I guess your doing something right if Google likes you enough to put you on the first page of a non related search.

    Comment by iphone handyvertrag | November 17, 2010 | Reply

    • Not quite a comment anyone would expect but I took it as a good one. And thus, though your comment came in as spam mail, I took the risk of approving it. I do hope you’ll keep dropping by.

      Comment by alee9 | November 17, 2010 | Reply

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