A few months ago I met a man named Thomas.
Thomas is in his mid- to late-80s and has spent his life in the warm arms of poetry. Now, with macular degeneration limiting his vision, and with end-of-life thoughts crowding him, he writes only lovely pieces that he sends out to friends now and again.
He sits at his desk and looks out the window, and it is this very malleable view that gives him his material. Here’s one favorite:
the whole glowing carousel here again
His poems, as he explained to me, “are American versions of Haikai, the one line poems (Haiku, Senryu, Tanka) the Japanese have been writing for a thousand years, and usually presented in the west in three lines or (tanka) five.”
I share this with you because these small poems make me slow down for a minute. They remind me to notice, at least, something small — an awareness, a detail. They remind me to share these thoughts with friends, and to receive such words when they arrive.