
Robyn and Jeff at the top of Table Rock (SC), 2023.
Greetings, Poetry Lovers! We are more than halfway through Poetry Month. Time flies!
April 17 is (was) International Haiku Poetry Day. You can learn more about that here.
Each year, among its celebrations, The Haiku Foundation hosts the Earthrise Rolling Haiku Collaboration. Haiku poets around the world are invited to submit haiku on a particular theme, with the editors choosing a "seed" poem to start it all off. In theory, folks would add their poems at dawn, wherever they are. But it's Thursday afternoon as I write this, and I just added a poem. It's dawn-o'clock somewhere.
You can click that link to read about this year's theme and read several poems editor Jim Kacian included for inspiration, as well as the seed poem.
In short, the poems relate to glaciers this year. An apt image and metaphor for so many explorations.
In snooping around online about my own area's geologic history, I wondered how far south glaciers came in the ice age. They didn't cover the Southern Appalachians, which is one reason we have one of the most biologically diverse temperate regions in the world. The geologic history (lots of species moved down here when the ice encroached), and the topography and climate (many variations of elevation and all kinds of microhabitats exist) - plus the stability of the mountain range - make for amazing discoveries around every bend.
Because a haiku needs juxtaposition, and I like to write poems connected to my own sensory and lived experiences, I wondered if I could somehow incorporate the recent wildfires in our area.
The Table Rock complex fire was the largest in upstate South Carolina's history, burning more than 15,000 acres last month. (My husband and I have a special connection to Table Rock, as that's where he proposed decades ago when we were at Furman, and we hiked it again year before last.) Turns out it also has a pond with roots in the Ice Age! Who knew? I don't know how the pond fared with the fire, but I hope it will live to see another mellinium or ten.
wildfire smoke
a Pleistocene pond
in the watershed
Robyn Hood Black
Here's to slowing down for a poetic moment or two this week and this month.... To read the rolling haiku, some of which are responses to other posted poems, click here.
Our multi-talented and ever-reflective Jone Rush MacCulloch has the Roundup this week; Thanks, Jone. Remember to follow the 2025 Kidlit Progressive Poem. And for all-things-Poetry-Month in the Kidlit bloggie realm, see Jama's roundup here.
I won't have a post next week, as it's our son Seth's and his bride Ginnie's wedding weekend! :0) Enjoy the rest of Poetry Month, and I'll see you with the May flowers.