"autumn leaves" haiku by Alvin B. Cruz - Frogpond

The Autumn 2023 issue of Frogpond (Volume 46:3) starts off strong, with great haiku by Joshua Michael Stewart, Reneu do Amaral Berni, William Scott Galasso, Sally Quon, and many others. One powerful poem from the first few pages is this monoku by Alvin B. Cruz (page 4): 

autumn leaves turning on the captions

There's a lot to like about this tiny poem. Even written as a single line, the fragment/phrase structure is implied by the flow of the words. "autumn leaves" sets the scene vividly – multi-colored leaves, either falling or having fallen or both, a briskness in the air, and possibly the later years of someone's well-lived life.

The phrase that follows ("turning on the captions") calls to mind someone coming to terms with the gradual loss of hearing that often accompanies growing older. A person watching a movie or show that they enjoy, who may have more years behind them than in front, finally admitting to themselves that they can no longer hear as well as they could when they were younger. The quiet softness of the falling leaves may symbolize the muffled voices coming from the television, from which it's getting harder and harder to distinguish individual words. Or it could call to mind the silence of a forest facing the oncoming winter, with bare branches, hibernating animals, and brooks or rivers beginning to freeze.

The double meaning of "leaves" works well in this poem, both as the noun (plural of leaf) and the verb (to go away or exit). "autumn leaves" could be symbolic of a person leaving their autumn years and entering the winter of old age.

The poet's choice of expressing this haiku on one line was deliberate and masterful. The single line draws the reader linearly from beginning to end, like the passage of time – one season to the next, or the progression of the human lifespan. Writing this as a three-line poem would have broken up the flow, and splitting "turning on" and "the captions" onto separate lines would not have been as effective as keeping them together ("turning on the captions").

Of course, this is all just my opinion. Another reader might come away with a wholly different interpretation of this poem, or might think that everything I've said is bunk. Either one is totally fine... that's part of the magic of haiku. The reader – and any preconceptions, biases, or prior knowledge they may bring – are just as much a part of the poem as the person who wrote it.

If enjoy good haiku like this one and you're not currently a Haiku Society of America member, you should consider joining for the upcoming year. The annual membership fee (starting at $30 for students and seniors) includes four issues of Frogpond, one or more member anthologies, the monthly HSA newsletter with haiku-related news and submission calls, and reduced entry fees for the HSA's annual poetry contests.