Member-only story
Duck
A haiku with a quiet reflection
duck and her ducklings —
he removes
three syllables
—
There is a quiet tenderness in the way life unfolds beside the equally quiet discipline of making a poem. A duck shepherding her ducklings suggests instinct, care, and an unspoken completeness, while the gentle act of removing three syllables reminds us that creation often depends as much on what is left behind as on what remains.
The prompt’s nod to the unbirthday from Through the Looking-Glass lends the moment a playful hint of topsy-turvy logic, where subtraction somehow becomes its own small celebration.
Both nature and language find their balance through subtle adjustments. What appears to be a loss is, instead, a refining gesture that allows the scene to breathe more freely. Sometimes the truest expression arrives only after we have let a little go.
First published on NaHaiWriMo.
Curious how these small moments become haiku? I’ve written a short guide called The Three-Minute Haiku System, which shows a simple way to turn an observation into a draft haiku in just a few minutes.
