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    haikupoet.com
    the haiku blog of paul david mena

    Tuesday, June 28, 2005



    I’m obsessing over my daughter’s upcoming wedding. Far from micromanaging the decision-making process, I’m pretty much on the sidelines—just me and my stress—perplexed that my wisdom and clairvoyance are being scorned in favor of blind exhuberance.

    My main responsibility for the wedding ceremony, aside from mournfully walking my daughter down the aisle, is writing a poem for the occasion and reading it in front of what promise to be politely impatient guests. My words must be insightful and amusing—eloquence, affection and cleverness topped with a pretty pink bow. I’m reasonably certain that I’ve never written a poem like that.

    Interestingly, I was specifically asked not to write a haiku.

    Naturally, I’ve written quite a few since learning about my daughter’s plans. First, the phone call that set the wrecking ball in motion:

    cherry blossoms —
    a shaky voice asks me
    for my daughter's hand


    Next, the inevitable reply:

    May showers —
    my daughter tells me
    she’s engaged


    My reaction ranged from paternal melancholy:

    dandelions bloom —
    I write a poem
    for my daughter’s wedding


    To jaded bemusement:

    planning my daughter’s wedding
    the TV commercial asks
    “What’s in your wallet?”


    I have a little more than two months to write this poem—one that I will likely edit beyond recognition on an almost daily basis. After that, I will once again turn to haiku for solace and perspective:

    Monday morning —
    my daughter has
    another man’s name

    1 Comments:

    Anonymous Jim Mullins said...

    Paul, when will the wedding be?

    2:13 PM  

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