hai·ku /ˈhīˌko͞o/
a Japanese poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, traditionally evoking images of the natural world.
April is National Poetry Month. In thinking about farmers who are also wordsmiths, there are names that come to mind. Wendell Berry endeared himself to many with his book "The Mad Farmer Poems." Or, if you've heard of just one poet, it is probably Mary Oliver. While not a farmer, she had a deep connection with the earth and the animals around her and wrote stunning prose about it.
Working with words is extremely accessible. After all, they're already in your head! There is some wordplay happening at Lum Farm, though it is substantially less high-brow than that of the poets mentioned above. That said, the pallet is the same: the seasons, the elements, the animals. However, the canvas is a little more off-the-wall. Or, actually, on-the-wall.
It all began with writing a few lines in dry-erase marker on the wall of the dairy's milk parlour (possibly the most poetic line in this whole post is that the room we milk the goats in is officially called "the parlour".)
I can't remember how the conversation started, but it involved Amy, Crystal and myself (Mandy) at the end of a milking session. It began in a quiet moment, pouring the milk into the cans to be chilled. Being a little tired after milking 30 goats, I can imagine one of us joking "Let's just stand here and reflect a moment." Somehow, a haiku was born, and in our amusement with ourselves we wrote it on the dairy board wall:
Stands holding hoses
watching the milk pour pour pour
reflect a moment
Is it breaking some sort of haiku rule to repeat a single word till you get the correct amount of syllables? Probably. We're not out to prove anything.
For better or worse, the muse had been unleashed. Over the months, the wall began to fill. First, we wrote little love letters to our goats:
Mandy and Patsy
Patsy:
ev'ry time you're milked
I tell you you're beautiful
Only then you go
Green Kate:
Humming to her babes
sweetest goofy matriarch
listen for your name
May Green Kate forever be known for her photobombing prowess.
Or maybe more rant than love letter:
Back Door Loretta
why not be the boss with those
horns and attitude
Such a precious thing
creamiest golden splendor
DON'T KICK THE BUCKET
Sometimes it became a little bit of a dialogue:
Hey Dairy Goat Gruff
Horned barricade not cool
Let your friends out please
Barricade maybe
Entertaining indeed I
Love a good challenge
You'll note that the ladies in the front are the ones with the horns.
In haiku tradition, we did have little odes to the seasons
Sweet foam on my lip
those dairy days of summer
can you lap it up?
a life of seasons
heart mind body synapsing
the farm equation
Amy, Crystal and Mandy get along awfully well for coworkers.
Eventually we began writing little notes of appreciation to each other
Many hands working
I follow in your footsteps
pleasant workspaces
Early morning haze
sleepy milkroom gratitude
you filled the chow can
Or Apologies:
Occasionally we'd have a visitor that would spy the board and add a haiku of their own. Here's a sweet one from some visiting friends who joined us for morning chores:
Minnie gives her milk
into the face of the kids
abundant laughter
Is there a moral to this haiku story? As I mentioned earlier, we have nothing to prove. But I do want to point out that there are moments, however fleeting, in which you can exercise the creative part of you. It may just be a few words in your head while you're in the midst of a task. They are worth your time and attention. You never know where they will lead.
Happy National Poetry Month!
The poets of the haikus came from the 2022 milk season. Poems weren't signed, so each poem may or may not have been written by: Crystal Mossman, Amy Lum, Mandy Troxel, Shannon O'Donnell, Amie Stevens or any random milkroom visitor.
P.S.
Since you've made it all the way to the end, I bet that means you'd be willing to add a haiku in the comments section of this post.