Laura Podeschi • Laura's Haiku •

Fighting for Peace: Haibun based on John Knowles' novel, A Separate Peace Phineas, though just a boy, knew a great deal more than so many of his peers and elders. And yet he was never even aware of it. Phineas was honest and trusting; he was athletic, adventurous and persuasive. None of these qualities, however, were what set him apart from those around him. No, what made this boy stand out from others was a characteristic of much greater worth: his idealistic, optimistic disposition. As Gene expresses, Phineas was not suited for combat, because he did not understand jealousy. He did not understand hate. In fact, Phineas could not even stick with one side in a snowball fight. Such a free spirit is not invincible, however, in a sinful world. So, while the rest of Devon was caught up in the war, Phineas fought his own battle to maintain a sense of inner peace. fighting for peace the leaf trembles on its branch • For Devon students, leaving the school grounds without permission is forbidden. Regardless, the silhouettes of two teenage boys can be seen sitting side by side near water’s edge at a local beach. After spending all day together, bodysurfing in the water and basking in the sun, one finally confides to the other that he is glad to have such a good best friend. As dusk slowly creeps over the ocean, though, the other remains silent. So many individuals can relate to the rejection that Phineas must feel when his sentiments are not returned. But to feel undeserving of such praise can be just as painful. Though Gene cares about Phineas, he also at times resents him. Thus, Gene feels guilty, for he has not been the friend that he should be. So many times, I have failed in my relationships with others. I have been that friend who feels resentful; I have been that friend who harbors a secret jealousy. I think that, at one point or another, everyone has been that friend who focuses on the seashell’s sharp edges rather than its inherent beauty. ankle deep in blue-green water I step on a seashell • A tree can represent strength; it can symbolize knowledge. In A Separate Peace, however, the tree represents so much more. It signifies change. It symbolizes growth. It represents the fear that Gene feels between the years of 1942 and 1943, not only with the encroaching war, but also with himself. The tree, huge and black, overlooks the river; with one jounce of a limb, Gene begins his shaky ascent into adulthood. When Gene comes back to Devon fifteen years later, he returns to the place where his boyhood was so suddenly stripped from him: “This was the tree, and it seemed to me standing there to resemble those men, the giants of your childhood, whom you encounter years later and find that they are absolutely smaller, shrunken by age” (14). Every individual has a “childhood giant” that he or she must learn to overcome. For me, it was a torn ACL. My junior year of high school, I was advancing the ball up the court against Sacred Heart-Griffin when I heard that sickening pop and felt my right knee give out from under me. For a long time after, I was scared to go back out on the court. Looking back, though, I no longer equate the injury with fear. Just as a tree grows older, scars fade with time. tracing the path of an old scar the tree’s bark • As Phineas’s best friend, Gene believed Phineas to be an extension of himself: the person he wanted to be. He states, “Phineas had died from the marrow of his bone flowing down his bloodstream to his heart” (194). The way in which Knowles phrases this line is powerful; no matter how many times I read it, I always have the same reaction as a familiar chill runs up my spine. Once a tiny bit of marrow escapes into the bloodstream, it permeates every part of the body, including the heart. Evil spreads in the same manner. Gene cannot blame himself for Phineas’s death; his outburst of long-contained emotions only caused the leg’s initial break. This proves, though, that one spiteful act has the ability to set off a huge, uncontrollable chain of events, which may escalate even to the point of war. wind rips through an open field scattering sunflowers