I’ve never really got haiku. I like the idea of it but at this point I’d never written one nor even attempted to write one. That wasn’t how the words came to me. And then this thing appeared out of nowhere, a quiet and contemplative—dare I say reflective?—poem. It’s a poem that always pleases me when I come across it. It’s the kind of poem that feels like a slow exhalation after a deep breath. It’s also the first poem where I think I managed to balance content and form: three stanzas, each six syllables in length and—to my mind at least—evocative of ripples.

 

What I always note, every time I read the poem, is the opening, “No.” This is a response. To what we never know, other than a request (an imaginary request I have no doubt) to get to know me better. I was all about appearances in 1989. The last thing I’d want anyone to do was get to know my soul, my dark and selfish soul.