Of My Mother, 92, With Alzheimers
1 I hate to think she may no longer dream of me. She lies on her couch and stares at the ceiling like…
Video’d haiku in the moment of its making… with one false start…
Haiku: 5/7/5 syllables,
a momentary noticing, a flash, succinct, over in an instant.
Here in its raw freshness… inside on a rainy day.
(Actually, in the moment, I miscounted, and “washing machine noise surging” is actually 7 syllables after all, but I prefer the second try, without a repeat of the word “noise.” Though I do like the word “surging” there with its present-day ovetones… )
Why be a stickler for the 5/7/5 form, when poets today, in Japanese as well as English, often catch the Haiku spirit of momentary noticing with even one or two lines, and disregard the exact syllable count? Perhaps it’s both a challenge to me and a little respite from my usual Open Form poetics… otherwise, hey, one may do as one wishes…
The house is noisy —
washing machine, dryer… ah!
Outside, the gray sky —