departing summer
a contrail becomes
the only cloud

Published by

Bryan Rickert

Bryan lives with his family in Southern Illinois and has degrees in art and education. He has been studying and writing the Japanese short poetry forms since 2012 and been published in many fine journals and anthologies. His first book Fish Kite is now available on Amazon and the Cyberwit website.

8 thoughts on “”

  1. Dear Bryan,
    I love this haiku. The image is vivid as I read it many times.
    I was supposed to attend the Haiku Cradle Fest in Mineral Point with all of you, but it is not feasible now. I am very disappointed. I will be thinking of you all there.

    My best, Emily Rademacher

  2. I've been about warm bulb events, so I'm viewing everything lately through that lens. This haiku seems both idyllic and ominous. I really like it, and it's a gut punch, at the same time.

  3. Look long enough, all those crisscrosses, like summer clouds, evaporate. You're left wondering where all those people are going, and why, knowing real clouds may, eventually, form useful rain somewhere needy. I sense an ecological warning here, Bryan, and agree with Virginia sensing something ominous.

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