The Heron's Nest

Editors' Choices

The Heron's Nest Award

I was immediately struck by the uniqueness of such a tantalising, fresh image that the poet has given us. It is a worthy recipient of this issue's Heron's Nest Award. The challenge was given to me to write a commentary, and with some trepidation mixed with excitement, I unleashed my imagination to go swimming in the poet's words. Of course, we know that truly fine creations are relative to the reader. An important part of writing a haiku or senryu is suggesting just enough for the reader to go beyond and find that true pot of gold.

In the first line we have closing time, which could be a celebration event or a lone figure at the bar, and the ambiguity adds depth from the very first line. Then we have the suggested intimacy or a passionate message, or a forlorn goodbye with those lipstick prints—and not just one set, which tantalises us even more. So far so good, a familiar scene that resonates with a smattering of intrigue.

Then BAM! Those delicate lipstick prints are on an octopus tank! What is going on here and how the heck have we just been jolted into an alternate universe? Let me take you on a journey of how this haiku unfolded for me. I immediately remembered the famous haiku by Bashō suggesting an octopus was dreaming trapped in a fishing pot. By sheer coincidence, I recently heard a scientist on the radio talking about that very thing, that not only humans can experience dreams. She used an octopus as an example, and it was observed that they do in fact dream in some way. Of course, we often observe our pets appearing to dream and it's known that other mammals dream as a natural part of the brain's activity during sleep.

So rather than make anything clear about the inclusion of that octopus, I have thrown out a myriad of possibilities, and I for one would just love to explore. What could be the poet's intention? Has he created an open door, or taken the lid off the octopus tank, for us to explore and marvel at our findings? Indeed, closing time could be the start of the transcendent nature of this poem, a passing of a life, saying last goodbyes with lipstick on a barrier of glass between worlds or even life and death, and what of the octopus? Perhaps the guardian of a journey, dreaming its own life in another way, or even showing us the way. I'm left with that lasting impression of those lipstick prints on cool glass and wondering just who pressed them there, and the why of it all.

Maybe I have drawn a very long bow, but isn't that the joy of going deeper and deeper into a fine poem? I commend the poet for creating such an evocative piece that invites the reader to find their own deep insight in what these humble three lines evoke for them.

Ron C. Moss
December, 2023