Wildflower field
colors that don’t go together
do
Carol Purington writes haiku to reflect on and honor the seasonal and
emotional patterns of her rural New England landscape. “I am challenged
by this spare, suggestive form to locate fresh sensory responses to
age-old images, to hear and echo new words whispered by an ancient maple
tree.” She has been published in many haiku and tanka journals; more
information and poetry can be found on this family website:
Purington’s books include Family Farm
(haiku), The Trees Bleed Sweetness (tanka) and Faces I Might Wear
(tanka). A new volume, A Drift of Birdsong: Haiku, is in manuscript form.