Tuesday, March 25, 2014

thickets of sparrows -
all the words I've written,
most forgotten



Bill said...

Suggestive, evocative.

mary said...

A lovely haiku - poignant and truthful. All those notebooks of poems through the years - sometimes you have to say - I wrote this?

Tito said...

nicely self-deprecatory, but we hear your voice, Bandit-bird

Tito said...

by the way, ex-Hailstone Jane Wieman made her first pilgrimage to a haiku meet at Mineral Springs the other day. don't know how she found out about it. said she met the ed. of Frogpond, but didn't mention you or Melissa. one of these days, you will meet, no doubt. she sounds like she is finding her feet in Iowa

bandit said...

No wonder I've been thinking of Jane. Though some recent events weigh - I feel I've been lax in my duty.
Some ancestors of mine from Iowa - "Ioweigians". Though that's a deprecatory label, given by Minnesotans, that even an ex-pat Texan could understand. Another side of my family is lost, probably forever (not from Iowa or Norway, either). Not from my home state of Missouri, the Show Me state, but Idaho to the west. Funny how things turn out.
Did Melissa save the day? Though she is in Utah at the moment. I envy her. It's been a long, hard winter in Minnesota. The ice is nearly out on the northern lakes, however.
Maybe a good starting point to find our way would be the Mississippi River. It's humble origin begins at a lake in the north. I've been there, and stepped across a path of stones to cross it. From there it spans the length of the country, southward all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. I've been there, too, Padre Island, seen the shrimp boats, jellyfish and crabs, and an expanse of water that took my breath away. All because I wanted to escape the snow and cold one winter when I was 17. And the ubiquitous Highway 61 runs along it for a good distance. Even into Wisconsin!