Things in life evolve
I, now uncaught on detail,
resolve that haiku,

when planned more strictly,
will not break a single thought
on separate lines.

On the other hand,
for sonnets, great shrines more strict,
more pursuing sound;

the stricture of both
could recombine with pressure
when mixed together.

Doing round numbers
of haiku, would misalign
within a sonnet.

It makes me sigh, too;
for, on my honour, I’d cry
if that myth were true.

Instead, there must be
eight haiku to see it through;
and then I combat

with four pale sounds.
And its sextet, for a tail,
sports “etcetera,

“etcetera.”

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