Deborah P Kolodji moderates the Southern California Haiku Study Group, which meets monthly in Pasadena, CA at the Pacific Asia Museum. A former president of the Science Fiction Poetry Association, she is the California Regional Coordinator of the Haiku Society of America. She has published over 800 haiku.
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7 thoughts on “”
The colours are vivid – the rose is very 3d, and the action is wonderful – the verb feels so just right, but I don’t understand the last line: I like the zoom in on the petals, but ‘down’, what’s that? Contact
I like the colors too–had just been noticing the forsythia and fog. I didn’t understand at first, but realize this is what the poet saw and wonder if “down” is meant to mirror “drizzle?” Those times when the whole day feels like that, but then a moment is given, and writing it down makes me feel better!
i didn’t understand the first line; not really not understanding it, but there was this leap i had to make to connect it to the second line. even though we are dealing with a drizzle, i am assuming a rivulet or even a stream of water had formed.
the second and third were meant for each other.
once so full of life, now doomed to float silently away.
within the third line, apparently the rose was upside down, or bottom side up, as it floated southernly.
deborah is amazing at times…
however, she has yet to figure me out.
Interesting. I see the rose as still attached to its stalk, hence bobbing intermittently whenever the slowly accumulating drizzle reaches critical point (like a bamboo bird-scrarer – you know the type?)
I know nothing of the psychology of colour, but wonder why this rose’s yellow is so much more gratifying than say pink or red, for me.
norman
i, too, can see your point, of the rose still being attached. however, in the limited space of revealing words, the weigh of gathering rain drops, perhaps, never reaches a crescendo to cause this rapid or even slow action of “bobbing” of an attached rose. i ponder if deborah considered “bobs” rather than “bobbing”, which indeeds takes less time.
but, there were your key words, “for me”, and unto this, i submit.
while thinking the author has selected the “best” words to describe the moment, a “drizzle” leaves “me” with the impression of a slow, light rain.
if we were to emphasize “bobbing”, rather than being a moment, “i” sense an extended period of movement.
the thought comes to mind, what is the extent of a moment?
The colours are vivid – the rose is very 3d, and the action is wonderful – the verb feels so just right, but I don’t understand the last line: I like the zoom in on the petals, but ‘down’, what’s that?
Contact
I like the colors too–had just been noticing the forsythia and fog. I didn’t understand at first, but realize this is what the poet saw and wonder if “down” is meant to mirror “drizzle?” Those times when the whole day feels like that, but then a moment is given, and writing it down makes me feel better!
i didn’t understand the first line; not really not understanding it, but there was this leap i had to make to connect it to the second line. even though we are dealing with a drizzle, i am assuming a rivulet or even a stream of water had formed.
the second and third were meant for each other.
once so full of life, now doomed to float silently away.
within the third line, apparently the rose was upside down, or bottom side up, as it floated southernly.
deborah is amazing at times…
however, she has yet to figure me out.
Interesting. I see the rose as still attached to its stalk, hence bobbing intermittently whenever the slowly accumulating drizzle reaches critical point (like a bamboo bird-scrarer – you know the type?)
I know nothing of the psychology of colour, but wonder why this rose’s yellow is so much more gratifying than say pink or red, for me.
Contact
norman
i, too, can see your point, of the rose still being attached. however, in the limited space of revealing words, the weigh of gathering rain drops, perhaps, never reaches a crescendo to cause this rapid or even slow action of “bobbing” of an attached rose. i ponder if deborah considered “bobs” rather than “bobbing”, which indeeds takes less time.
but, there were your key words, “for me”, and unto this, i submit.
while thinking the author has selected the “best” words to describe the moment, a “drizzle” leaves “me” with the impression of a slow, light rain.
if we were to emphasize “bobbing”, rather than being a moment, “i” sense an extended period of movement.
the thought comes to mind, what is the extent of a moment?
grey drizzle
his grey sensuous pant
that has thrown me over
continuous drizzle —
teardrops form
on each green leaf’s tip
–