Haiku

I write Haiku as a way of cultivating an intuitive and open awareness of my surroundings. I usually write about nature, and I try to keep the 5-7-5 structure. Many modern haiku poets have adopted a freer and much sparer style. This makes for some beautiful poems, but it doesn’t work for me. (I tried writing like that for a while and published a few haiku in the contemporary journals, but in the end I found myself drawn back to the formal 5-7-5 structure, which seems to be less popular these days— though the wonderful Clark Strand has been doing a great job revitalizing this form .)

My interest in haiku is only partly aesthetic. I do like when a haiku carries a certain ephemeral beauty, but the main thing for me is the state of mind that the haiku helps to bring about and to express. When reading these little poems, please try to settle into them softly and read them with an open heart.

I’m still figuring out how to format and update this page. For now, please scroll and enjoy at your leisure. :)

Some new additions (July 2024)

How to say goodbye

to everything all at once?

One loving outbreath.

This is a “death poem,” written at a retreat on mindfulness of death at the Barre Center for Buddhist Studies (Feb 2024).

nightfall coming fast

the few remaining sparrows

teach me how to grieve

I wrote this one while listening to the birds at dusk and thinking of my mother, Katherine Kremm, who died in August 2021.

in perfect silence

a crescendo of blackbirds

bursting through the blue

This one came to me while driving north on 91 on a clear, quiet day.

At dusk I hear the gods:

the silken slap of oarsplash,

the cry of the loon.

This one came to me while kayaking. I bent the rules.

such perfect branches

swaying in silent prayer

on this burning earth

My gift to the oak:

warm tears, the only water

she’s tasted in weeks.

small poems of ecological conscience

Haiku from 2023

tickling my face

and the face of the mountain

cold New Hampshire rain

written December 2023

Jetavana Monastery, NH

after the snowfall

breathing in the frozen moon

clear mind, open heart

written December 2023

Jetavana Monastery, NH

singing in the rain

half-cloaked in cool morning mist

my friend, the sparrow

written June 2023

Insight Meditation Society, Barre, MA

sunlight rippling

across the broad-backed river

two sparrows, one song

written summer 2023

on the Connecticut River, Western MA

sunless summer sky

the river and the raven

speaking in slant rhymes

written summer 2023

Deerfield River, Deerfield, MA

hunched in warm sunlight

like bowing to a Buddha

the rain-drenched cattails

written spring 2023

Deerfield, MA