HAIKU<\/strong><\/p>\n

barefoot through puddles
\nknowing the path to the door
\nwithout a porch light<\/p>\n

two children
\ntwo sparklers–the light
\nin their eyes<\/p>\n

on the table, his
\ncollar–taking his memory
\nfor a walk<\/p>\n

~ Dianne Borsenik<\/p>\n

“two children\/two sparklers” first appeared in Haiku Spirit #11, 1997 (Ireland), and “on the table, his\/collar” originally appeared in Frogpond Vol. XlX No. 2, 1996 (although both were slightly different versions than the ones in Blue Graffiti- I did a lot of revising for my chap). I wrote the third haiku you chose, “barefoot through puddles”, just this year, and it’s one of my own personal favorites.<\/em><\/p>\n

. . .<\/p>\n

Sparkler<\/strong><\/p>\n

There is something intimate
\nabout holding a sputtering, silver sparkler
\nwhile on your balcony
\nat night, alone,
\non the 4th of July.<\/p>\n

My case manager had put the idea in my head \u2013
\n\u201cNo plans for the 4th?
\nCome on, Marc,
\nlight a sparkler or something!\u201d<\/p>\n

Truth is, at 44,
\nI had never lit one.<\/p>\n

When we were kids
\n(it always starts with \u201cwhen we were kids\u201d, doesn\u2019t it?,
\nas if past parental negligence could explain
\nwhy we are lame today.)
\nWhen we were kids,
\nmy sister and I weren\u2019t allowed sparklers,
\nnor matches;
\nno snap dragons, let alone bottle rockets\u2026<\/p>\n

(\u2026so of course only my best friend knew of my pyrotechnical propensities,
\nhoned in the back yard on the knuckle-sized, white stones
\nwispy, flying Kleenexes, alive with flame, floating toward the house,
\nand little plastic Dixie-cupfuls of kerosene spilt over the rocks and then ignited.)<\/p>\n

But even a mama\u2019s boy can get his hillbilly on at age 44 \u2013
\nlet that pyro out of the closet in a little 4th of July tribute,
\nshare a moment with his inner child
\non the balcony
\nwith his lone starlight spewing against the darkness,<\/p>\n

his life and his love having finally become things to explore,
\nsweet strange strawberries
\nto be kissed
\nbefore tasted.<\/p>\n

~ Marc Steven Mannheimer<\/strong><\/p>\n

. . .<\/p>\n

Next page\u00a0\u2192<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Poems “Haiku” by Dianne Borsenik and “Sparkler” by Marc Steven Mannheimer<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/190"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=190"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/190\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=190"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=190"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thecitypoetry.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=190"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}