I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS.
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I love the mystery this conveys. I can hear the gush of the water, even though you don’t mention the sound of it in the haiku. It’s a perfect pairing of text and image, imbued with the sense of going deeper in to the rock, and deeper into the meaning of the words. I’ve mulled it over for a while and it keeps resonating.
Just finished self-isolating after the teacher I work with tested positive. I’ve been well, thankfully, but going out for the first time in 10 days, I feel like my senses are hyper-alert. This haiga really keyed into that too. Thank you!
I love the mystery this conveys. I can hear the gush of the water, even though you don’t mention the sound of it in the haiku. It’s a perfect pairing of text and image, imbued with the sense of going deeper in to the rock, and deeper into the meaning of the words. I’ve mulled it over for a while and it keeps resonating.
Just finished self-isolating after the teacher I work with tested positive. I’ve been well, thankfully, but going out for the first time in 10 days, I feel like my senses are hyper-alert. This haiga really keyed into that too. Thank you!