Maybe you’ve noticed or maybe you haven’t that fewer haiku tend to be written about the summer than about any other season. (I have absolutely no hard data to support this conclusion. But I’ve got a whole theory about it, so work with me here.)
I mentioned this to a friend who is just becoming familiar with haiku.
— Autumn, I told him, that’s the haiku season. It’s more wabi-sabi. [Insert whole discussion about wabi-sabi.]
— Fine, he said, wabi-sabi away, but why autumn? Think outside the box here. Why can’t you be all imperfect and melancholic in the summer?
— Um, because it’s too sunny, I said. People are all warm and happy in the summer. They’re going to the beach, having barbecues. Nothing is dying. There’s nothing to be wistful about.
— Aha (he said triumphantly). But that makes the wistfulness more ironic and unexpected. It’s more interesting that way. You should write more haiku about the summer.
Hmmm. I suppose I should.
a gunshot separates
light from dark
the surgeon questions
my need to be awake —
I say “I do”
in divorce court
glaring sun ::
his flawed logic
across the lawn
a hose stretched taut–
a room full of mosquitoes in and out of love