Global Haiku • Fall 2020
Dr. Randy Brooks

Little Stars

by
Sadie Scott

When I first enrolled in this class, I had a completely different mindset about what haiku was than I do now. Of course, the typical 5-7-5 myth came to mind, and I believed they could be about anything. After reading and writing all the haiku I could, I came to realize what haiku was for me. Haiku is when I’m at work, sitting and staring at the people who pass by. Haiku is sitting in the grass during the summer and looking at bugs. Haiku is looking out the window at the black sky on a long car ride. It’s a single moment where you truly become one with every sensation you feel. The most mundane of moments can be made to feel special when hundreds of people connect with that tiny space in time. Haiku is fully becoming engulfed by the here and now, just for a split second. When you feel smaller than the stars in the sky in this giant, ever expanding universe, and you think about every word you can use in the three lines you have that can express the way you feel. When I write a haiku, I think about times in my life that occupy my mind, and I simply write about what it’s like to experience a memory. What did I tase then, and what did I smell? Was my heart light, were my eyelids heavy? It’s hard to condense every emotion that I feel into only three lines, but that’s what I love so much about writing haiku. The short length allows for anyone to access what I wrote and mold it into their own likelihood. It’s a gift that keeps giving, and it’s wonderful to share a moment with another person. I titles my collection Little Stars because I believe these moments in your life are like the stars in the sky: so numerous, and yet so small. Every one is a gift that you can look to when the world eats at you and you need a reminder of where you are and what you came from.

little stars
dance above grass
you’ll miss them soon

blue light
across the screen
reaching glossy eyes

bites on legs
burnt cheeks
and my hair a shade lighter

how strange
to feel naked
with my face hidden

I want to take scissors
cut and snip
until I am small

eyes lock
across the grocery
for just a moment

six months sober
from a love
so intoxicating.

staring contest
my eyes meet
the barrel of the gun

Saturday
ballerina pirouettes
in underwear

expiration date
written clear as day
on every headstone

I sleep with
many ghosts
that haunt my bed

the men in suits
debate
are all people humans

on top of blankets
ghosts tell stories
of living things

gossip
learning new things
about myself

straight A student
the model of success
collecting scars

a small waterfall
flowing into
my bathtub

lying next to you
I smile
about nothing

thrift store
first date
second hand