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Carolyn Senft
My haiku speaks of me in two ways. It reflects my recently discovered pleasure in writing three-line, seventeen syllable verse. As an architect I enjoy the challenge of using so few words to suggest a visual image. Like a written snapshot, what lies beyond the frame can only be inferred.

This particular haiku also reflects the seasonal changes that I have come to appreciate living in Central New York—the predictability with the arrival of an equinox or a solstice, yet the unpredictability of snow in May or sixty degrees and bright sun in December.

March; spring equinox.
Daffodils, like many suns,
peek through clouds of snow.

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