Simply Darlene vs. Haiku (installments 1&2)

A Story, country life, poetry - haiku

At first I clapped my hands as I spoke haiku.

Now I just tap my pencil as I scratch ‘n scrawl nightly pajama words across the paper. That’s right, p-a-j-a-m-a words. Meaning, I shed jeans and a t-shirt for sweatpants and a t-shirt, I flick the toggle switch on my bedside light (the light that’s bolted to the 4×4 post that’s bolted to the 1×8 boards that are bolted to the other three 4×4 posts on the bed that my husband and I made some 11 years ago), I open a notebook, and I tap-tap-tap-tap-tap the hardware store carpenter pencil. The kind with no eraser.


This is how country girl poetical things are birthed. Precisely. It’s a fine-tuned process. And I know you’re uncontrollably thrilled. That is an expected side effect..

Not to mention, it’s pretty dang weird if you ask me.


Anyway, SimplyDarlene vs. Haiku installment 1 is as follows.

Oh yeah, keep reading because installment 2 follows. As it should. Because 2 follows 1, unless of course you’re counting backward.

Once upon a time (about three weeks ago) we had some fresh eggs, some fresh snow (not this 5 inches deep of diggety-dog dirty ice), and a brand-spankin’ new Saturday morning. Later that night, this was born.


Snowman melts on wood 
cookstove as kittens eat fried
eggs on paper plates.




Then, one week ago today, my son’s 6-year old gelding died in a horrible accident. We were all there. Our hearts aren’t all here, because quite frankly, bits and pieces were put underground, deep into the dirt, with Snicks. I can attest to the horrors, pain, and sadness; though, if you ask me, I’ll tell you “it ain’t none of your business.” I can’t undo the knots on anyone’s timescale. At the oddest times I bawl: whilst I look for broccoli in the fridge, whilst I empty the compost bucket under the stars, whilst I wash dishes and glance out the side door window and expect to see four horses waiting on their humans. Unlike the other one, this haiku didn’t ease down the canal, rather it came sharp and jagged.


This is how country girl poetical things are birthed. Inexplicably. It’s a barbed process. And I know you might be sad with me too. That is an expected side effect.

Not to mention, it’s pretty dang crapTastic if you ask me.


Once upon a time (just hours shy of one week ago) I had some fresh eggs, a fresh-broken heart, and a brand-spakin’ new Saturday morning. I looked out the window and what I saw very nearly make me puke. Nonetheless, later that night, I wrote this with my carpenter pencil.

Yep, the kind with no eraser.


mareEyeSDMare stands on new ground –
paddock burial yesterday
her colt beneath mound.





8 thoughts on “Simply Darlene vs. Haiku (installments 1&2)”

  1. Gotta love a gal that writes with a carpenter’s pencil… I can almost see you sharpening outdoors now… That’s an art all unto itself.

    I didn’t think it would stab my heart again, but that picture with the words from your heart sure did.

    • Yes sir, it’s interesting how we process sadness. But the getting it out so the cracks can heal, that there is important.

      As always, thanks Floyd, for stopping by and commenting.


  2. Oh, this is making my eyes sting. I can’t say how sorry I am enough. Still wishing I could give you a hug. Yeah. A barbed process.

  3. I just scrolled on down, looking around here, and I wish I hadn’t. Kind of. That haunting photo of the mare, and then the words underneath — just no. Made me sad. So sad.

  4. Leslie Willcuts says:

    Hi Darlene, I am very sorry to hear about Snicker Doodle. My heart breaks for all of you and especially your son. I ask God if He will comfort you as you grieve the loss of your beautiful four legged ‘Snicks’
    Leslie W.

    • Miss Leslie – and you, you knew him and “baby sat” him along with our motley crew so many times. We miss him something fierce. And we miss you to the moon and back. Love you too.


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