Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Haiku
by Ron Padgett Three pairs of big red shoes in the closet with yellow laces The broom leaning in the kitchen later afternoon door wide open The old woman snatching at the vines tearing away dead leaves sputtering and cursing On the cookie sheet a gingerbread man reading a book Wooden clothespins on the grass at the picnic for the factory workers In the air a glass face about to materialize Fog on the gardener’s cottage she snuggles closer he opens one eye A mosquito hovers over the stile to the apple orchard If you look hard enough into the air you will see something there even if you are a hammer An old man dressed like a mass of soap bubbles walks in the woods singing happily From left to right the sweet, meticulous script in the old notebook Red cherries on the cotton dress on her body as she opens the curtains A man is a damn fool unless he talks through his hat as it gets blown down the street From Collected Poems, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Coffee House Press, 2013, pages 693–694. See also “13 Ways of Looking at a Haiku” by Jim Kacian (2017). |