Five, seven, five counts Of poem I can’t quite grasp. Beauty in restraint Sometimes without rhyme, but supposedly with reason. Serving as brief poetry, to go against traditional, longer, more complex poems. Its name is derived from Japanese terms that several reads over and over cannot be untangled in my brain. But I do know that its structure serves as a symbol— that simplicity’s value serves as a pillar in the charm of Japanese culture and of life.  I don’t necessarily see the beauty in writing about how Whitman hallways stink, but I’m sure someone like Pip does. And while writing poems where being curt is a necessity is not my forte, neither is creative writing as a whole. But I’ll just stick it out and keep counting on my fingers…5…7…5…