After returning to Dunedin, New Zealand, my home city, it was inevitable that I would write haiku there also, and that I would then compare what I had written in the two environments.
Rice by the spoon was the result.
I selected 100 haiku written in NZ and a further 100 (not yet included in Eight seasons in Otaru) and alternated them, with an eye on linear progression.
I believe that no haiku actually stands alone. There is always a context - either the haiku that stand on the same page and in the same book, or in the reader's mind i.e. the haiku he or she had previously read.
Here are a couple of six-linked-haiku: two leaves out of my book:
jump
the dead rat
mid! jump
leaping up at me
tonight
just traffic plashing
soaring hawk
behind me honks
a taxi
the crow croaks
a new day of sunshine
slumbers
I might have known
while napping the
silverbeet wilted
blue and green
a sandwich
orange peel
***
duck the willow
wind stirs twice
the rain
nightfoot padding past
the stairwell inlit moon
the silence roars
no footprint
just earthworms naked
over snow
buddha in a
plastic mac and bonnet
sleeping ice
from time to time
I wipe my nose
it's only rain
March melts
but the mud
remains for rain
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