Welcome to the third installment of readers’ quarantine haiku. Thank you for sending in these gems. I love them.
(Reminder: if yours hasn’t been posted yet, wait a day or so, I’ll get to it. And keep them coming!)
Let’s start with flowers because . . . flowers! After winter, flowers. What a marvelous event.
Sharon Carey sends in this
uplift stone cold riprap spirits
Johnny jump ups cheer somber days
In case you, like me, don’t know what a Johnny jump up is—
Judith Berger, herbalist, sends greetings from Manhattan:
Outside my window,
waxwing in the Juniper.
She too wears a mask.
Who knew this little project would be such an education? Here’s a waxwing in a juniper bush:
My sister Mary K. wrote one we can all relate to:
Attempting to stay in shape
Food and wine negate
My grand-nephew Charlie Greco, age 9, made a PSA haiku. Simple, sober and to the point. Thanks, Charlie!
it is horrible for you
wash your hands please, thanks!
Last ones for the day are from my friend Michelle of Chicago.
[Explanation needed: weeks and weeks ago which feels more like a lifetime ago, we met in Maui (I cringe at the Marie-Antoinette tone of that phrase, but it is what it is, and it’s relevant). In the airport restroom we spoke with a woman who had just come back from the little island of Molokai, once home to lepers. She enchanted us. Tall, willowy, gray-haired, dressed in safari-type clothes, a big smiler—also a widow who had buried her native-born Kauai husband on his home island years before. We wanted to know more about her—really I wanted to be her best friend—so we stalked her. Tracked her down in the airport restaurant to see who she was with.]
You were so interesting
Tell us your secret
Michelle also wrote this one:
Were the fish laughing
When they saw my snorkel mask
Or was it my fins?
Okay, more tomorrow!