Apparently I missed publishing a poem; with relatives in the house and the new baby seeking attention every two hours or so I completely forgot to post the hiaku moment for yesterday.
The event behind the formation of the poem contains an edge of symbolic irony: a few weeks ago I devised a folk-loric fable regarding the birth of my son, soon to be transferred to a long poem.

Brendan is a figure fallen from the skies in a meteor shower, a star-boy who lands in a pond to become a water-creature, a koi-child with wrinkles and whiskers. Later he leaps into our laps, a fresh baby human, all wriggles and eclectic squirms.

In the logic of the haiku presented below, Brendan is the green ball tossed by the wind into the water, only to be pulled out once I discovered it/him on my daily walk. The essence of the object, of Brendan's nature, is still intact, even with all the changes falling around him.

He remains my catfish boy, my dream-child fished out of marshy shallows.

The plastic ball pulled
from the full pond yesterday
remains a green sphere.


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