Global Haiku • June 2025
Dr. Randy Brooks

The Fish Just Swims

by
Arianna Morris

At the beginning of this class, I had no idea how to write haiku. To be honest, I still don’t. What I do know is that to write haiku is to be in the moment. It does not need to be a set amount of syllables or follow a certain rhythm, it just needs to encapsulate the essence of haiku.

I chose to name this collection "The Fish Just Swims" because I thought it was a great reminder that life goes on. What started as a throwaway haiku to finish an assignment became something more. The more I thought about it, the more I loved the idea, especially because one of my dogs passed away during the span of this class (hence the dog haiku in this collection). Sometimes everyone needs a little reminder to, as Dory would say, “Just keep swimming.”

an empty kennel 
paws no longer grace 
the floors 

arms around each other 
wandering the fair 
swans 

pages fly out the window 
the sun rips them 
to shreds 

pitch darkness 
blinding, endless blue 
day has come below 

hunched over 
a ditch 
the fish just swims 

a single tulip
her fingers
tremble

waves lap
at my skin
starlit sky

branches creaking
we laugh
on the tire swing

a gloomy bar
popcorn wafts
through the air

underwater
drowning out the noise
of the world

warm darkness
a cave
to call my own