Stolen by the Breeze

On stone pillows, the dead sleep soundly.
but the cicada’s seventeen sad syllables
are immediately stolen by the breeze.

In the morning quiet of the cemetery,
the haiku master writes a eulogy, while
on stone pillows, the dead sleep soundly.

Lost in his task, he dips his brush
in a pot of black ink, and he hears nothing
but the cicada’s seventeen sad syllables

that awaken something in his heart.
He begins to write a cicada haiku, but the words
are immediately stolen by the breeze.

Kim M. Russell, 5^th February 2026

This Thursday at the dVerse Poets Pub we are meeting the bar with Merril and revisiting the cascade form.

Merril says that this is an easy challenge, with no syllables to count, no beats to tap, and no rhyme scheme. However, we should try to make the transitions smooth and flowing like a cascading waterfall. This is achieved by using each line from our first stanza in subsequent stanzas.

Not only has Merril given an example of one of her own cascades and one by Udit Bhatia, the creator of the form, she has also said that our poems do not have to be narrative, and can be ekphrastic, for which she has provided an image. Furthermore, there is no required length, except the first stanza must be at least three lines, and the poem at least four stanzas: the entire poem will be one more stanza than the number of lines in the first stanza.

For an added optional challenge, we could try using techniques such as alliteration and/or assonance or enjambment.