Some time ago, on a hokku sharing and learning forum that I operated previously, there were occasional contributions from a writer identifying herself as Cerridwen. Her works were simple, direct, down-to-earth and very pleasing. She has kindly given permission for me to post some of them here. One can tell from such terms as “scrumpy,” “samphire,” and “water butt” that Cerridwen lives in Britain.
SPRING
The newborn lamb,
Unsure which leg
To move next.
Spring returns;
At the kitchen window –
Two houseflies.
The blustery shore;
Gulls brace themselves,
Knees backward.
An April shower;
The chicken’s mucky beak
Rinsed clean.
SUMMER
On each porch,
The morning paper
And a cat.
Milking time;
White goats appear
Out of the fog.
Two chickens,
Jumping higher and higher
To reach the raspberries.
New cement;
Across one corner –
Chicken tracks.
Just out of reach
Beneath the porch;
A broody hen.
Midsummer drizzle;
A droplet on the tip
Of each blackberry.
A moonless night;
Everywhere around my bed –
The mosquito!
In each ripe tomato,
A hole the size
Of a chicken’s beak.
Grinding dried herbs;
The kitchen hazy
With sweet dust.
Shucking corn;
The cool silk
Between my fingers.
Among the windfalls,
A Browing goat –
Scrumpy on its breath.
Late summer;
The red currants burst
When picked.
Summer ending;
Clearing spider webs
From both galoshes.
Summer’s end;
Airing on the fence –
Winter quilts.
A windfall apple;
One by one
The wasps settle.
Twilight –
Only the chimneys
Still sunlit.
AUTUMN
No more roses;
Overnight
The aphids disappear.
Cool against my ankles –
The first dew
Of autumn.
An approaching storm;
The sound of windows being closed
All down the street.
Boiling samphire;
The smell of low tide
In the saucepan.
The fixed glares
Of two cats passing;
Autumn cold.
A heavy dew;
All over the car –
Catprints.
The autumn greenhouse;
A bunch of grapes
Shrivels to raisins.
All through the night –
The soft thud
Of falling chestnuts.
The chestnut tree;
With each leaf that falls –
More blue sky.
After the harvest,
A pile of scarecrows
In the barn.
In autumn sunlight,
The brown dragonfly
Turns gold.
Autumn light;
How black the depths
Of the water butt!
Bleak October;
The click of hailstones
On the window.
It is a pleasure to present these verses. Such hokku deserve to be widely read and enjoyed. Sincere thanks again to Cerridwen for allowing me to share them with all who read here.
David
