Write a Poppy

write, erase, rewrite,

erase again, and then,

a poppy blooms.

—Hokushi (Tachibana Genjiro) (1667-1718), Zen monk and haiku poet of the Edo Period, from “Japanese Death Poems written by Zen monks and haiku poets on the verge of death,” Yoel Hoffman, ed. 1998) (Thanks to alert WORDster and rewriter Andrew Merton)

• Editorial Comment: I wrote, erased, rewrote . . . Made a dandelion. Starting over.

Fair Warning: The WORD hears the clear siren of St. Mumbles calling. That, and the salmon season opens here soon. Thus, the 2018-19 season will end Friday when the nice men with broken noses and white coats come to collect him. Brace yourselves.

PeezPix

haiku wannabe

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Ted Pease, Professor of Interesting Stuff, Trinidad, California. (Be)Friend The WORD

“I don’t think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones, in the right order, you can nudge the world a little.” —Tom Stoppard