Wildly mixing cultures, I pared one from the bone pile according to the 2/3/2 scheme. It may not be haiku, but it’s terza rima (down from 4/3/4 and, I hope, an improvement on the original):
Mezzogiorno
In Sicily
the summer’s old despair,
for I can see
the trees grown there
endure a sun that’s bled
through dusty air.
My forebears fled
this midday poverty
with roots half dead.
Transplants across the sea
revived their family tree.
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Ralph
[This message has been edited by RCL (edited May 02, 2004).]
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