Cricket orchestras play in late summer. Instrumentalists hide in road ditch grass, crawl along out buildings, sneak into farmhouse basements. Symmetrically speaking, you could fold paper cricket crisply, like a program, from antennae to tail spikes. Don’t be surprised when common cricket dresses up in gloss black for the evening concert. The koorogi orchestra tunes as more players join in. Buzzing music crescendoes into a grand symphonic sound.
chirrups with his wings
hope hops ~stridulates~ for mate
listens with her legs
Listening to the music at dVerse poets pub with Victoria tending the bar.
Frank J. Tassone hosts haibuns at dVerse Poets on Hiroshima Day, 2018.
Hiroshima Memorial Ceremony
Reading a thin volume, Hiroshima, in high school, I experienced the mushrooming disturbance to our world. Horror, regret, tragedy and fear seared my mind as images of devastation burned into my imagination. An unthinkable calculation dropped this surreal weapon of ghastly power on unsuspecting civilians.
Visiting Pearl Harbor as an adult, I attempted to understand the whys of warfare. An over-reaching dictator and ultra-ambitious military attacked unsuspecting soldiers, provoking enmity. Havoc, death and destruction ensued, trailing a bloody wake across the “Pacific” (sadly ironic) theater.
Until it finally ended with not one, but two, atomic bombs. Who fully realized the fallout of unleashing such force? Acts of war escalate exponentially, beyond all expectations of reasonable retaliation. Let ugly history be our strict teacher and awful memory be our future deterrence.
Chèvre at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai challenges us to write “fusion troiku”: combine two classic haiku into one, then use for first lines of haiku series of three…
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