ink on a canvas
creates a small child—
missing dad

Becky Smith

rickety treehouse ladder
parents fighting
down below

Aubrie Cox

disappointed in him...
not my choice
I cry in the back row

Tara Goheen

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

Tyler Lamensky

rickety treehouse ladder
parents fighting
down below

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

top quarter champion

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

top half champion

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

bottom quarter champion

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

there she lies
as the mourners pass
she texts behind the tissue

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

there she lies
as the mourners pass
she texts behind the tissue

Joseph Sparks

inherited tie clip
my first use
feels unoriginal

Colton Shaw

fluorescent tennis ball
her final bite marks
still there

Jade Anderson

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

Jackson Lewis

top half champion

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

bottom half champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

graduation
Grandma struggles
to hear my name

Grant Dartman

mother’s pearls
my neck
blushing

Susie Wirthlin

summer tea party
listening to the rain
on my porch

Hollie Logsdon

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

Ky Cochran

mother’s pearls
my neck
blushing

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

top quarter champion

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

bottom half champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

bottom quarter champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

sun day
letting the sand bury
my feet

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

Aubrie Cox

dropping down
onto the forgotten banana
a solitary fly

Michelle Dixson

white sand beach
poking little toes
into the homes of crabs

Jordan Pennington

sun day
letting the sand bury
my feet

Susie Wirthlin

ink on a canvas
creates a small child—
missing dad

Becky Smith

rickety treehouse ladder
parents fighting
down below

Aubrie Cox

disappointed in him...
not my choice
I cry in the back row

Tara Goheen

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

Tyler Lamensky

rickety treehouse ladder
parents fighting
down below

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

What I really enjoyed was how in the first haiku, I picture someone is literally holding on to someone else, and in the second one, I feel like someone is figuratively trying to hold on to the memory of someone else. I like how both of them have double meanings. Grant

top quarter champion

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

top half champion

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

bottom quarter champion

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

there she lies
as the mourners pass
she texts behind the tissue

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

There’s just something compelling about death. Therefore, it has been overdone, which makes is very difficult to create original material. These two definitely accomplished this, and I am impressed. I love the twist in the first. “She” is not, after all, the corpse in the coffin! She is an attendee, who’s not behaving appropriately as such. So, of course, the question becomes why she is acting appropriately. The possibilities are endless, and I like that. The second haiku is very stark. To me the three lines are “cocked,” “aimed,” and “shot” respectively, very straightforward and procedural. Boom, boom, boom. I love the play on words of “living” and “dead.” I love how the poem makes no suppositions at all on the conditions of his death, offering on “cigarette smell” to tantalize the reader’s imagination, and no suppositions on the feelings of the people left dealing with his death. There’s back story without doubt, but I almost feel it doesn’t matter. The facts are he’s dead, and his living room smells like cigarettes. Death is almost trivialized, and I enjoy that irreverence. Ky

This pair was really perfect. I love how both deal with this unexpected aspect of death; one being texting at a funeral, the other being the lingering smell of cigarettes in place of this man’s spirit. Both seem to comment on the finality and banality of death: in one, life goes on as the girl texts her friends from a funeral, and in the other, this man’s spirit lingers forever, albeit in the form of that smell of cigarettes that is impossible to get rid of. Susie

there she lies
as the mourners pass
she texts behind the tissue

Joseph Sparks

inherited tie clip
my first use
feels unoriginal

Colton Shaw

fluorescent tennis ball
her final bite marks
still there

Jade Anderson

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

Jackson Lewis

This was a PERFECT match because they both have the feeling of something left behind when someone is gone. For one, it is bite marks. For the other, a stench. However, either way, it is still a reminisce that reminds you of the person/animal that is now gone. Sometimes those reminders can be quite comforting, but other times, it kind be kind of eerie; like somehow, they are still there. Becky

These haiku were my favorite pair because the had the same sort of emotion with two different subjects and two different authors. There's that kind of sense that there's something reminding the speaker of a loved one (dog or man) and that they are mourning the deceased's passing by examining that something. The both have kind a contrast, too, with the fluorescence of the tennis ball versus the finality of the dog's tooth marks and the whole "living room" versus "dead man" issue. It's a good pair. Jordan

Both of these Haiku deal with death obviously. They have very different subjects (a dog and an old man) but the match works really well because they are both concerned with what some one leaves behind when they die. In both cases, something is permanently touched by the deceased. Both poems are bittersweet. The loss is sad, but there is still some piece of the loved one in the world. Nora

I liked these two because they both show of a pet/person dead... and something from them still alive. The first one is the memory of the dog, the bite marks. And the second one is about the cigarette smell of the dead man. I think they fit really well together. Tara

I really enjoyed this haiku matching pair for several reasons. The play on the presence of someone no longer around is seen in both the dog’s bite marks and the dead man’s smell. Furthermore, their presence is tied to objects that are both the focus of the haiku and a defining article of theirs. The bitten tennis ball and the cigarette smelling living room provide an image of who the dog and man really were. Tyler

top half champion

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

bottom half champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

graduation
Grandma struggles
to hear my name

Grant Dartman

mother’s pearls
my neck
blushing

Susie Wirthlin

summer tea party
listening to the rain
on my porch

Hollie Logsdon

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

Ky Cochran

The ‘graduation haiku has to be my favorite because I was thinking this exact same thing at my graduation. It brought back so many memories. It made me think of all of the advice and congratulations my family was giving me when I didn’t really feel as if I’d done anything special. I had walked across a stage; at least that’s how it had seemed to me. Then I read the following poem and imagined these two kids, one a boy and one a girl, both going through graduation. It’s just that one of the kids is concerned with the condition of his Grandmother’s ear lobes and the other with a priceless family heirloom. People have all sorts of random memories from graduation. Jackson

mother’s pearls
my neck
blushing

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

What I like about these two paired together is the sense of time, and generations. Where Susie's is about the past and present, Ky's focuses on the present and future. And, of course, I like both of the individual haiku. The term "mother's pearls" indicates these pearls are precious beyond the nature of their existence, and possibly an heirloom. In the second poem, the lights give it an ethereal feel, almost as though spirits are crossing over, as crossing a river is a symbol of transition. Aubrie

I like the way these two haiku’s go together; but I’d like to make one edit (if I can?).instead of between present and future, I’d like “between past and future.” What is in between the past and the future? THE PRESENT! The present represents the bridge, something we must all go over to get to the other side. The pearls are like the bridge, the hold the past (her mom wearing them) to the present/future(the daughter wearing them). They have a nice ring when put together, don’t you agree? Joseph

top quarter champion

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

bottom half champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

bottom quarter champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

sun day
letting the sand bury
my feet

I liked both of these, because they gave me a sense of what time it was. The first one I like the feeling of it being fall, perhaps the end of fall, and things are beginning to die off, along with memories of being in the tree house. In class we mentioned that “autumn leaves” could refer to a girl, named Autumn, who is leaving the neighborhood, and I thought that was an interesting view. The first one gives a more cold and longing feeling, whereas the second haiku gives a sunnier outlook. I liked that one, mostly because of the play on “Sun day.” I can picture someone, or myself, lying in the sun on a day off and just not thinking about any of my worries. I like the carefree aspect to the haiku. Both of them are very nice, and make a nice pair. Hollie

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

Aubrie Cox

dropping down
onto the forgotten banana
a solitary fly

Michelle Dixson

white sand beach
poking little toes
into the homes of crabs

Jordan Pennington

sun day
letting the sand bury
my feet

Susie Wirthlin