Angie Short • Angie's Haiku •

Kiyoko Tokutomi was born on December 28, 1928, on Kyushu Island in southern Japan, the second of seven children. She received a formal education at an all girls’ school and upon graduating from college, took a job teaching literature and dance in a Japanese junior high school. It was here that she met her future husband, Kiyoshi Tokutomi. In 1954, Kiyoko moved to the United States to be with Kiyoshi, and in 1957 they were married and eventually had one daughter. Because her husband was suffering from Tuberculosis, Kiyoko was forced to go to work. Due to poorly administered medication, her husband became deaf, and it was at this time that Kiyoko introduced her husband to the written art of haiku, something she had been exposed to in college. Captured by the art of haiku, Kiyoko’s husband became very interested and involved, and in 1975 they formed the Yuki Teikei Haiku Society with hopes to expose and teach appropriate haiku techniques. This society is still active today. In 1987, Kiyoshi surrendered to TB, but Kiyoko pressed on with the haiku spirit. She has continued to an encouraging mentor to haiku students and write haiku in both Japanese and English. She has been honored and recognized at home and abroad for her haiku accomplishments. Kiyoko has one daughter and three grandchildren. She lives in Ben Lomond, California, among the redwood forest. As I read the book Kiyoko’s Sky: The Haiku of Kiyoko Tokutomi, I fell in love with this collection. Kiyoko writes and describes personal moments with such intimacy, openness, and purity, I felt refreshed and soothed as I read it. The gentle themes and direct experiences she captures have balance and tone and give a sense of warmth and safety. She includes themes such as: childhood, hometown, family, flowers and trees, small animals, the sky, and most importantly “kigos”, the seasons, which Kiyoko and her husband felt very strongly about, along with the 5-7-5 approach, when writing haiku. These were two main guidelines for writing good haiku in the Yuki Teikei Society. For me, Kiyoko’s style is easy to relate to. It is very family oriented and from her direct experiences. I love the haiku that capture moments about children. I also like her sensitivity to her daughter’s pregnancy. This shows her understanding of the depth and intimacy in childbearing, something close to my heart. I can sense her deep commitment to her husband in her haiku, as she writes about him and their “fun” times on April Fools' Day, and about his death. Kiyoko’s true passion was for nature and the seasons. Most all of her haiku relate to summer, winter, spring, fall, or New Year’s Day. She is able to capture both a moment and season in such a quaint manner, enjoying her works can come naturally. Kiyoko is gifted to discern what is most important in a delicate moment, and write with passion, expressive vocabulary, and openness, allowing the reader to step in and connect. She writes in both Japanese and English and her works are praised for being selfless and often reflections of “lightness”. The following haiku by Kiyoko are expressions of haiku that reflect Kiyoko’s style. All but one contains a season word, and they directly relate to family, nature, and ordinary moments in life. In summer clothing children have such beautiful arms and legs season: summer theme: children I love this haiku. It makes me think of children with sun-kissed summer skin—warmed and brown to delicate perfection, especially on their arms and legs. Their skin is so fresh; young smooth, and sometimes plump. I think it is precious how Kiyoko captures this quaint thought of young children dressed for summer playing at the park or at the beach in their swimming suits. It represents the “young at heart”, innocence, and the simplicity of life. Kiyoko is paying attention to a detail in life sometimes over-looked, the simple, fresh, healthy sun-kissed skin draped on children. I can sense carefree laughter as children have a play-day as an old woman on a bench admires the youthfulness, and reflects on her own childhood, longing for that young beautiful skin she once had. This haiku is pure innocence. Lingering, the scent of perfume afterwards between my fingers season: no direct reference theme: delicate moment I believe Kiyoko is touching on a delicate, intimate, almost romantic flair in this haiku. Although no specific season is mentioned, I sense a clean, fresh, warm breeze blowing through a bedroom as sheer drapes blow in the wind. I imagine a woman sitting at a vanity brushing her hair and wearing all white. I sense a warm sun, and a delicate and pure atmosphere. The scent is clean and soft and is “lingering” between her fingers. This gives a sense of gentleness, nothing harsh, but sensitive. Maybe this scent reminds her of someone for something and causes her to travel back in her memories. The sense of smell/scent can be powerful and Kiyoko uses delicate vocabulary to allow the reader to capture this intimate moment. One every woman could relate to. At its bottom all things are visible winter river season: winter theme: nature/river In this haiku, I immediately find myself at the edge of a crisp mountain stream. Snow crystallizing on the edge as ice and icicles drip into the crisp, clear stream. I see water rushing over stones and sense the clean, crisp, serene air surrounding both the river and mountains. Everything is frozen; therefore no sediments or impurities are flushing through the water. It is clear and able to be looked through. The bottom is visible and small pebbles are resting on the bottom, maybe fish are swimming around. I imagine a forlorn man wandering around the stream with deep thoughts running through his minds, maybe hurt or confusion. He is looking for answers and clarity during this “cold” time in his life as he stares into the visible river. I think it is amazing how Kiyoko uses such few words, yet can capture a whole scene with deep meaning. Lightly it goes And so lightly it comes back —the swallowtail season: spring/summer theme: little animals This haiku is a good example of “lightness” in Kiyoko’s writing. She embraces and captures a weightless and effortless flight of a winged creature. I can imagine myself standing in a field with the gentle breeze blowing, flowers dancing and the fragrance of honeysuckle and wild violets lingers in the air. I slowly turn my head and the sight of this delicate flying creature captivates me. It is colorful, gentle, yet strong, not trying to disturb anyone, just about its business, going and coming. It’s almost as if it’s invisible, but it’s not, just discreet, effortless and light. This is a moment in time that captures a simple vision and leaves a fresh, gentle imprint on the heart and mind. It is innocent and pleasing to the senses, and remains open for the reader to step in and enjoy the moment. Spring dusk my husband in the photograph as though he were alive season: spring theme: family/husband This haiku made me imagine a widow catching a glimpse of a photo of her late husband, maybe on top of a vanity or dresser, but near a window, because as soon as she glances at the photo, the time of day is visible through the nearby window. “Spring dusk” helps the reader imagine a time of fresh green vegetation and renewing life. This is the opposite of what the widow is feeling about her husband. I sense a deep longing for someone who was greatly loved and is greatly missed. This widow glances at the photo and proceeds to stare out into the dusk of the day, just when the sky is turning red and orange and the light is getting ready to disappear. This widow longs for her husband and the glance at the picture makes her feel her husband is alive, yet, he isn’t, he’s gone as the light, too, is going away. Kiyoko expresses her deep longing for her husband in this haiku, and I sense an intense desire to return to what once was. These are deep thoughts captured in such few words. Bright autumn day I visit my daughter in her ninth month season: autumn theme: family/daughter I imagine a mother walking down the street, planning a visit to her pregnant daughter, maybe this is the first grandchild. I see leaves that are colored orange, red and yellow dancing to the ground and falling in piles at the edge of the streets. The mother longs to stay connected and feel involved with the birth of her grandchild. It is very important to her to make an effort to go and visit her daughter with child. The anticipation is great because the mother is close to delivery. She is probably round, swollen, moving slowly, and wobbling. It’s not enough for the grandma to just wait for the grandchild to be born; she is concerned with both of their well being at this point in the pregnancy. She wants to be involved from the beginning, throughout the gestation and afterward. I imagine a sincere mother/grandmother sacrificing time, effort, and love for her offspring. Kiyoko is able to capture the miracle of conception, and in essence the brevity of the season of pregnancy, once again, capturing a intimate moment in time using few words, yet leaving it open for the reader to walk in. Kiyoko does this so well. How I love it the sea of my hometown . . . cherry petal shell season: spring theme: hometown/flowers In this haiku, Kiyoko combines both the love of her hometown and a reference to cherry blossoms, a flower very significant to the Japanese people. I am quickly drawn back to a small beach where a young girl is delicately picking up pink/rose colored shells and studying each one. The waves are rolling just enough to make themselves known, but not too rough. This young child finds meaning and comfort in the uniqueness and individuality of each shell she finds. She pours out a part of her heart into each shell, as they become a silent companion for the girl. It’s almost as if she can relate to or talk to the shells and pour out her most intimate secrets and leave them tucked in the delicate pink shells safe from harm. As years go by, the girl grows up and moves away, but she has a forever bond with the delicate shells on the beach. A part of her heart is in each shell and this causes her to reflect and long for that part of her innocent childhood when she could just freely walk along the beach and feel the white warm sand on her toes, hear sea gulls squawking, listen to the waves roll in, and tell her secrets to the shells. Oh, how this brings a sense of warmth and wonderful, safe childhood memories because life can be so fragile. Kiyoko captures a beautiful moment in time with graceful vocabulary and delicate seasonal references. The redwoods intended destination towering autumn sky season: autumn theme: nature/redwood/sky Kiyoko loved to refer to nature in her haiku and many of her haiku were about the redwood trees that surround her house in California and about the sky. This haiku refers to both. I instantly imagined a person looking out a window of a house planted deep in the redwood forest in the middle of autumn (autumn in California would be different than in Illinois). Redwoods are supposed to grow very tall and appear to touch the very top of the sky. I can see these tall, confident, stately trees erect and trying with might and mane to reach the most prized height possible in the towering sky. I think Kiyoko was trying to say that the trees could never touch both the height and depth in the mystery of the sky- though it was a valiant effort to be recognized and captured. Such a strong thought in such few words. Kiyoshi Tokutomi is a modern day haiku master that writes from direct experiences and describes personal moments that remain open to the reader. She writes in a style that reflects her true feelings at a very given moment and uses tone, balance, and graceful vocabulary that honors the simplicity of expression. This Japanese poet, living and teaching in America, uses seasons and often uses the 5-7-5 guideline to create her haiku. Her warm themes of family and nature offer readers gentle, intimate moments from experiences faced in everyday life. I personally find her haiku very inspirational. —Angie Short