I was immediately transported back to rural Alabama, to the countryside surrounding Auburn University, where I studied. When I first moved there from Miami, I asked my classmates from the South about the strangleholding plant- they laughed and told me not to stand in one place too long, lest I be engulfed.
This is indeed a haiku moment in the truest sense. The minimalist approach allows the reader share the vines, reaching within to make your haiku the readers own too. Thank you for sharing it.
October 2nd, 2018 at 8:41 am
lovely
October 2nd, 2018 at 8:44 am
I was immediately transported back to rural Alabama, to the countryside surrounding Auburn University, where I studied. When I first moved there from Miami, I asked my classmates from the South about the strangleholding plant- they laughed and told me not to stand in one place too long, lest I be engulfed.
October 2nd, 2018 at 1:00 pm
randomness
some produce sometimes-
others never
October 2nd, 2018 at 1:31 pm
__ Well felt, Deborah; my humble echo. _m
vine cloak
covers the flaws
peer deep
October 3rd, 2018 at 9:23 pm
Dear Debra,
This is indeed a haiku moment in the truest sense. The minimalist approach allows the reader share the vines, reaching within to make your haiku the readers own too. Thank you for sharing it.
Blessings,
Karen
October 7th, 2018 at 5:49 pm
Thanks to all who commented. I enjoy reading your impressions and thoughts.
Deborah
October 29th, 2018 at 4:08 am
A thought-provoking one, Deborah.
(I was trying to guess what a kudzu was before Googling it, and thought it might be an instrument left out in the rain! :) )
marion