It’s easy to forget that every day holds poetry. Especially if you’re hectic: packing, moving, cleaning a new house, unpacking… Soothing a disolocated dog, holding a curious baby. Eating out of cartons while you locate the dishes and pans.
All of this can make you forget the whole point of the exercise. New house! Beautiful baby! GREAT life! Well, not really forget, but kind of lose sight of…
Watching my grandson today, as he tried to climb over the boxes that have yet to be unpacked, I remembered why I love haiku so much: it’s a verbal snapshot of a moment. Any moment will do, if you look closely. For me, it’s almost any moment I spend watching my grandson…
Tanka (at least for me) differs only in a short reflection — it’s the caption for the snapshot, if that makes sense.
So today’s poem — after a hiatus of traveling here and hectic moving! — is both snapshot and reflection: a tanka for Trin.
tanka for Trinidad
my grandson chows down
one entire banana
singing na na na
his fisted hands keep time
thump thump thump song of feeding