This spring day I with my pen,
my neighbor pounding and that
lark waste time.
No one pays me to
write. Lark, do you sing on breaks
from selling used worms?
If I sing like a lark,
will you, lark, tell the world
how sweetly I sing?
Today I got nothing done.
Lark, shouldn't you be
patching your nest?
I wrote these one day-off, hearing a lark's song (I don't recall
how I knew it was a lark; someone must have told me) while trying
to write some poems, knowing I had other things to get done, letters
long overdue for answering, etc.
At the time I thought this was good stuff. Now it seems too
cutesy, far too cutesy for haiku, which usually insists on an actual
lark, not one that, after a moment on stage, turns into a symbol.
But if I take it on it's own cutesy and unhaikuish terms, it has
some eloquence. (I do toss some things out, honest!)