Haiku Epic

A couple of weeks ago, Hardingfele showed me a baby avocado tree growing out of her compost heap.  It seems she had thrown a pit in there, and it had happily grown to about two feet in height.  I found this ironic, or at least annoying, because I have carefully planted avocado pits and never had them sprout, but my mistake must have been not throwing them in the garbage pit.  Hardingfele dug the baby tree out of the compost heap and put it in a pot, and I brought it home to Plant World, since it would undoubtedly not survive one of our northern winters.  In fact, I know this from bitter experience.

Years ago Rich had a roommate we'll call "Ed" who was studying in another state for a semester, so he asked us all to care for his avocado tree, which he had grown from a pit.  It was about five feet tall at that time.  We took very good care of his tree, but when he returned, he decided it was too big and he didn't want it anymore.  So did he ask any of us who had babied his tree for him in his absence if we would like to adopt it?  He did not.  He simply sat it out on the porch in the middle of winter, and it promptly died.  This angered me so much that one New Year's Day my besty Tiffy and I wrote a haiku epic about this tragic tale.  Every verse of our epic was a haiku.  It has long since been lost, but I do remember my best haiku verse:

What makes a killer?
Why? I cry to the heavens.
Why did Ed do it?

And here is Tiffy's best haiku verse:

Guacamole dreams.
Avocado mourns its loss.
Why did Ed do it?

The last line of each haiku was "Why did Ed do it?"  Perhaps someday the epic will reappear in its entirety, like the Lost Llama Poem of Hardingfele, which has since been found.  (It will probably even be in the same place - Rich's house.)  Until then, you will just have to imagine how the entire epic went.  And feel free to leave avocado haikus in the comments section.

Famous Hat