The Heron’s Nest Award
of a match being lit
Michele L. Harvey
Hamilton, New York
With the striking of that match, Michele Harvey commands our attention.
She doesn't mention the sound, but we hear it.
She doesn't tell us why the match was lit, but it sparks the memory of burning autumn leaves.
With widespread laws against such burning, there may be some who've never experienced that unforgettable aroma.
Regardless, this haiku encapsulates the essence of autumn. Nearly every sense is enlivened:
the landscape brilliant with reds and oranges and yellows, the crunch of leaves underfoot,
the touch of crisp frost in the air, the sound and scent of the match, the memory-scent that seems so real you can almost taste it.
And that memory evokes so many others: pumpkin patches, homecoming games, fields of stubbled corn. And a golden,
inexplicable melancholy that seems as much a part of autumn as all the rest.