I have discovered that I am not much of a fan of Haiku, what I really enjoyed from this collection were the occassional prose poems which had Haiku within their midst - these had an expansion of thought which was engaging.
Most of the Haiku themselves left me unmoved, a few raised a smile with a clever witticism, but only half a dozen stood out as great poetry.
On of these was by Ken Jones:
Ageing address book
the living squezzed
between the dead
Another by Hilary Tann:
calling home -
the colour of mother's voice
before her words
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