Ultrasound Picture 

Here’s the first poem from my index card boxes for poems that start with the letter U:

ultrasound picture

slowly passed from hand to hand—

beginning of spring

I’m forgetting the occasion that might have inspired this poem. My two children weren’t born until 2003 and 2005, and I wrote this poem on 4 May 2000, in Foster City, California, so it wasn’t an ultrasound of my children. I liked the poem enough to submit it first to two contests, the 2001 Henderson Haiku Contest sponsored by the Haiku Society of America, and then the 2001 Drevniok Award sponsored by Haiku Canada. It wasn’t selected, so I tried Modern Haiku and Heron’s Nest next, both in 2002. I tried Frogpond after that, in 2003, and it was published later that year, where it ended up being the lead-off poem in the entire issue, which I’ve always felt was a bit of an honour. This poem happens to be 5-7-5 in its syllable structure, but I don’t consider that to be either a problem or a virtue. The poem has natural line breaks and reads smoothly, which is far more important (among other targets) than whatever syllable count the poem might have, although this is still long relative to the heft of haiku in Japanese. The original version didn’t have “slowly,” but I added that on 31 July 2001 when I sent it out the Henderson contest. I had no need or desire to make the poem 5-7-5, but I felt that “slowly” helped to add the overtones of contemplation and wonder for each person holding the picture. The poem was written in spring, and the spring season word seemed fitting for the scenario. Whether this was my own experience or imagined, I hope the poem recreates an authentic moment for the reader.

—31 May 2025 (previously unpublished)