PACE Global Haiku • Fall 2008
Dr. Randy Brooks

Reflections

by
Sam Sinkhorn

Author's Introduction

Although none of the haiku in this collection were written for the sole intentions of being a part of this chapbook, many of them seem to be a reflection of the past, present, or future. These haiku are not necessarily a reflection of myself or how even how I imagine myself, but a possible indication of how life actually is. Because of this, these haiku seem to be relatable in meaning.

Before enrolling in the haiku writing roundtable course, I had never attempted to write a haiku, let alone produce anything worth reading. Over the semester, I found myself understanding the various techniques of writing haiku and then applying them to my writing. I discovered a new found love of writing poetry that I hadn’t had before. I truly hope the readers of this collection enjoy reading my haiku as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Sam Sinkhorn (author and haiku connoisseur)

A Reader’s Introduction

My grandparents spent nearly their whole lives together. Married when they were in their teens, my grandmother kept the books for the family business while my grandfather oversaw the retail operation. On weekends during the summer, they would retreat to the little family bungalow overlooking a Cape Cod estuary. My most treasured memories from childhood are watching my grandparents sit side-by-side in their matching Adirondack chairs, watching the sun go down over the bay. As the family mourned my grandpa’s death, my grandmother was strong and joyfully reflective in celebrating his life. But I can’t help but think of the grief that must have overwhelmed her to walk out onto the deck, with the warm sun going down over the marsh, and seeing his empty chair next to hers.

she watches
the sunset
on his empty chair

Mike Drudge (haiku connoisseur)

a branch breaks,
the sound muffled
by the clamor of the city

mountains,
so much older...
than I

a love letter
sent to my boss...
accidently

not for forgiveness
he prays—
hands in his pockets

we kiss
in high heels and neck ties
for the last time

Fourth and Goal:
he finally shares
the blanket

sharing hot chocolate
the fire...
dies

sock drawer
he finds
the ones with holes

three hours &
one worm later
you made me throw him back

Emergency Room
where you and I
both died

on the park bench
forgetting
why we came

finish line:
the sound of the gun
moves her

World Series
he nods
to everything I say

left field—
tightening the laces
of his father’s glove

showering—
last
on my to do list

going back everyday…
to the place where
we first met

the pull of the tide
brings me closer
to you

coffee shop corner
my book
& I