seventeen syllables

Haiku is not a shriek, a howl, a sigh, or a yawn; rather, it is the deep breath of life. — Santoka Taneda

In 2018, tiring of too many words not saying what was in their heart, I turned to haiku as an exercise — a recentering of focus and pointed understanding. I had come to rely on exposition, a heavy use of paint and oversized canvas, a muscular big block on an endless desert road. Trying to hold everything by including everything.

The spareness of my earl…