READERS’ CHOICE AWARDS
The Heron’s Nest
Volume X, Number 3: September, 2008.
Copyright © 2008. All rights reserved by the respective authors.
Tributes to Robert Major
I am saddened to learn of Bob’s passing. I’ve long enjoyed his poetry and got to meet him at the Haiku North America
conference in Evanston, Illinois in 1999. I still remember that he wrote a haiku back then about how, under fluorescent lights,
bald heads all gleam differently. Bob had a wonderful, self-effacing humor, perfect for haiku, and a big, generous heart.
The lilacs bloom in great profusion. Robert would have loved the vibrancy of colors and scents that decorate us this year. It was a cold spell that turned our yards, our gardens, our spring into a kaleidoscope of beauty. And it was in this cold spell that we discovered the truth of all life . . . to every thing there is a season.
woodland path —
I loved Bob’s wisdom and quick wit. In an on-the-spot response to one of my poems he wrote:
sitting in the swing
Bob was a dear friend and I will miss him very much.
rows of folding chairs . . .
a tall pine
the mighty oak falls
the Peace Rose
I have fond memories of Bob. He always seemed to have a twinkle in his eye, and he gave good bear hugs. He was especially kind to me at the time of the HNA meeting in Portland, where he functioned as my chauffeur in addition to everything else he was doing for the local group. While I have been thinking about Bob, I remembered how impressed I always was about his attention to and fascination with small happenings and objects.
So large a presence
cloudy horizon —
waves of pink petals
At my first Haiku Northwest meeting, early in 1999, poets sat in a circle around Francine Porad’s living room reading haiku.
When my turn came I read the first line of my offering and paused. Just then Bob, who was sitting beside me, let loose a thunderous
sneeze. I jumped and my mind went blank. Francine couldn’t suppress a giggle, which, of course, was contagious. Soon we were
all laughing, even Bob. He was both notorious and beloved for such sneezes. Strange, but even that sound plays a part in my missing