old priest’s rectory:
the pine tree green
even in snow
Published by
Charles Trumbull
Charles Trumbull is an editor for Encyclopaedia Britannica and lives in Evanston, Illinois. He has been writing haiku since 1991. He was editor (1996-2002) of the Haiku Society of America Newsletter, president of the HSA in 2004 and 2005, and an organizer of the Haiku North America 1999 conference. He is currently editor of Modern Haiku and proprietor of Deep North Press, a publisher of haiku books.
No Web page yet; e-mail: trumbullc at comcast dot net
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7 thoughts on “”
We have a Scots pine outside our very quiet block of flats. I love the scent of pine trees, and the combination of snow and pine and a quiet private rectory wins for me.
I envisined a priest at the end of his life(old)posessing an inner belief that if he dies at this moment(snow as a symble of death), his record will stay green the same as that pine tree.
Beautiful juxtapositions. Enjoyed.
The colors you’ve played with are soothing and beautiful- creating a visual imagery that speaks a lot . . . and this is coming from a person who has never seen snow!
kala, your words remind me of the things(some) i’ve never seen.
strange, how one’s mind tend to create an image; though always pleasing, even of the ones i always seem to be at odds with.
having never seen most of the commenters, their words paint a portrait upon my mind’s canvas.
–
kala’s song
through the night air…
so fragile
this small blue-winged butterfly
We have a Scots pine outside our very quiet block of flats. I love the scent of pine trees, and the combination of snow and pine and a quiet private rectory wins for me.
Excellent.
I envisined a priest at the end of his life(old)posessing an inner belief that if he dies at this moment(snow as a symble of death), his record will stay green the same as that pine tree.
Beautiful juxtapositions. Enjoyed.
A deep haiku. Unforgettable.
hide and seek:
evergreens and passing snow,
life and death
The colors you’ve played with are soothing and beautiful- creating a visual imagery that speaks a lot . . . and this is coming from a person who has never seen snow!
A very rich haiku.
low mass
the old priest can’t remember
all that he believes
kala, your words remind me of the things(some) i’ve never seen.
strange, how one’s mind tend to create an image; though always pleasing, even of the ones i always seem to be at odds with.
having never seen most of the commenters, their words paint a portrait upon my mind’s canvas.
–
kala’s song
through the night air…
so fragile
this small blue-winged butterfly