Wim Lofvers’ November Mist

November mist
written in the field
a mole’s message

(Woodpecker 1997:2; Modern Haiku 38:2, 2007)

© Wim Lofvers (1930 – 2007) (The Netherlands)

I read this haiku as a nature-sketching haiku. I think that in the third line, “mole” means the kind of animal or the mist’s “mole.” If it is the mist’s mole, it refers to a very small part of nature. So, I can say this nature-sketching haiku is highly up to date.

– Norie Umeda (Japan)

The first line opens as a curtain on an autumn whitened landscape faded into a light fog that makes everything have no edge. This verse prepares the reader for a dreamlike journey in a mysterious world where, at a first sight, writing is the poignant reference to the second line. But in the third line, we discover that there’s a secret code drawn in the earth. The underground job of a mole makes me think of our unconscious thoughts, instinctual pushes which dig into the depths of one’s soul.

We are invited to think to whom the message could be conveyed. Since the mole’s message comes to the surface from the underground, it can be read as a kind of suggestion that the Es-part (still not conscious) of the author wishes to become the Ego—so visible, no more hidden as before.

Also, it seems to me we have a movement of a search towards awareness and the sound of “m” repeated in the first and third lines creates a mesmerizing effect as if the meditative “om” is the key to reach it…

– Lucia Fontana (Italy)

Did you enjoy this haiku and commentary? Please let us know what you feel in the comments.

11 thoughts on “Wim Lofvers’ November Mist

  1. Thank you so much for having allowed me to express my opinion on this special haiku, dear Nicholas, it was a honor and my pleasure….thank you to trust me …!
    All the best,


  2. ingrid baluch

    Hello Nicholas,
    I believe this poem is simply an anthropomorphic observation of nature. If there’s a deeper meaning, it escapes me, but, having closely observed moles, which some people, especially those with trim lawns, would like to exterminate, one can often track their directional movement beneath the ground where earth may be too stony. The second line, “written in the field”, may thus become a physical squiggle of raised earth covering a meandering tunnel just under the surface, easily seen from above, and likened here to the human activity of writing.
    Setting the scene in Autumn with that season’s mists is appropriate for this adorable little creature at a time when it is actively getting ready to dig deeper to survive winter down where bugs and worms are to be found doing the same.
    I worry that we become too conscious of ourselves as a species when looking at nature and especially other life forms when the experience could be one of simple wonder, joy and acceptance.


  3. I like the haiku a lot. But who was it said, “We murder to dissect”? This is a real problem with a short-form like haiku. which depends on one’s almost instant apprehension of the poem. With, in my opinion, so few good haiku around, we do need intelligent criticism like yours. We all fight shy of saying truth about non-haiku haiku which should never see the light of day either online or in print magazines: editors are very far from infallible and an awful lot of unformed stuff gets through (even accounting for an editor’s blind spots or individual taste). There are further ramifications of this subject, including how committed writers get their stuff “out there”. I have recently decided to start a blog. But I’m rambling now. Keep up the good work and demonstrate how great haiku work! Nick


    1. Thank you for the appreciation and encouragement. We try to do our best to delve into haiku. I agree that many journals are lax about publishing haiku. It’s a delicate balance between fostering talent and promoting fine haiku.

      I wish you the best with your blog. What’s your blog going to be about?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thanks for replying. My blog Haiku for Living exists: haiku, tanka and haibun, with some prose poems and occasional theoretical diatribes (yet to come). I hope to spread my wings with story, when I discover my inner Teller! Nick


  4. Pingback: |

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s