Bashō's Road

to the small poem and the quiet voice within

donald hall | distressed haiku

In a week or ten days
the snow and ice
will melt from Cemetery Road.

I’m coming! Don’t move!

Once again it is April.
Today is the day
we would have been married
twenty-six years.

I finished with April
halfway through March.

You think that their
dying is the worst
thing that could happen.

Then they stay dead.

Will Hall ever write
lines that do anything
but whine and complain?

In April the blue
mountain revises
from white to green.

The Boston Red Sox win
a hundred straight games.
The mouse rips
the throat of the lion

and the dead return.

3 Comments

  1. Phil Hansotia

    April 9, 2011 at 5:04 am

    Dear Norb, This poem by Donald Hall is what I call a “March Poem”. About the ugliness of March and the redemption of April. Hall has a line in the middle–Now, this is the first day of April,–followed in the opening of the next stanza with “I finished with April halfway through March.”. In April the blue mountain revises from red to green but Dan is lost to the Red Sox. Such is the charm of poetry. Cheers,Phil Hansotia.

  2. Three Haiku

    home plate stained red man brown autumn arrives

    unexpected kiss
    apple saplings quiver
    in a sudden gust

    at the end

    of the road

    nothing to

    obscure my

    nothingness

  3. Very poignant. Thank you to poet and publisher.

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