I conceived this series after writing my last haiku on Fall last night, and began composing in the car on the way home, on the back of a cardboard jacket of a mix CD a friend had given me. By the time I got home–sometimes one is actually thankful for long red lights–I more or less had the Winter and Summer haiku down. Spring was a tricky one, though, as Spring is apt to be for our cynical, self-guarded age. “No, please, no poems about gardens and flowers and lovers.”

And I confess I find that cynicism in myself at times, too. And, fundamentally, the opposite of cynicism is belief and submission, in this case, submission to archetypes of redemption and joy which we do not allow ourselves to readily and fully enter into, to submit to the silly awkwardness–to the sometimes sheer sappiness–of being a lover, of being beloved. Whether or not we ever find human mates, the same dynamics apply in far greater relationships.

Well, as you can see, Spring did get written, on this morning that in many ways is its counterpoint, dark and rainy and cold, which is, nonetheless, one of my favorite sorts of day.

In the haiku below, I have spared you capitalizations of key words, so as not to absolutely throw the meanings at you which I intend in this cycle/uncycle. Let me just say that I have bigger fish to fry than I normally do with my haiku, investing a greater deal of intent in titling, word choice, and allusions. I hope I have used a big enough frying pan.

Haiku Uncycled

Fall has pungency
Like nard. Summer’s fullness crushed
Anoints the late year.

Winter has the scent
Of absence. Nothing. Death. Life.
Shrouded under snow.

Spring is memory.
Fragrance from a walled garden
Calls to the lover.

Summer will not end.
Here at this wedding, wine, bower
Evermore and more.