Grandpa's wooden sign hung on the oak at the top of the hill for thirty years. "What is kale?" I finally asked.
Bursting from its skin,a gifted pomegranateis received gently.
Peeling back the skin,she wonders afresh --the gift of pomegranate.
Kelly - De nada mi amiga. risa - I like the restructuring. You woke me up! You're a natural.
Thank you, dear -- I don't know about haiku, but in Japan, centuries ago, an important game skill at court or in literary circles was, when the host(ess) or guest composed a tanka on the spot, the other was implicitly challenged to respond with a counter-tanka, so to speak, using the same elements to put a different light on the matter.So as a guest here, and I really liked your haiku, I thanked you by writing a response-haiku! Maybe we could revive an ancient literary practice, neh? ;)
Katrina what an absolutely gorgeous photo. Such beautiful mottled skin on your pomegranate.
Kathryn - It's my fault. I should label my photos, This isn't a pomegranate but some type of french or italian winter squash. I'm so rarely organized to have my photos match the writing. Someday perhaps. The squash was quite stunning though. Much more than what I was able to capture.
risa - I think I saw this ancient art, as you say, on a movie one time. Yes, a revival, a practice of language. I'm going to have it try it at the dinner table now too. You may have started something!
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