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by Robert Hass
[excerpt]
The haiku comes
in threes
with the virtues of brevity:
What a strange thing!
To be alive
beneath plum blossoms.
The black-headed
Stellar’s jay is squawking
in our plum.
Thief! Thief!
A hard, indifferent bird,
he’d snatch your life.
Four verses out of 123, excerpted from Praise (Manchester, England: Carcanet New Press, 1981), page 55.
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