Why I sat in a Tree Last Night
Or ruminations over the effects of Basho’s frog in ‘Old Pond’
A wild boar is like a good story: secretive, wily, and always attacking from behind.
Or if not the story, then a well-written character within it; boars hold grudges — 660 lbs of them, and have more moods than wicked witches in the Wizard of Oz.
With the snorting, garrulous boar below me, I ruminated on Basho’s famous haiku:
frog jumps in
the sound of water
Luckily for Basho, it was a frog. As for myself, I remained where I was much of the night.
on a branch
I wait for my haiku moment
to not break