Thirty-One Haiku
One weather report
Three words, no subject, total freedom: and the models step out into the same poem. It is morning (11 of 31). It is silent or still (8). If it is not morning it is autumn (8), and something: petals, leaves, dew: is falling or drifting. A lone bird interrupts the quiet in six of them. Nobody writes a haiku about the city, the body, hunger, or a machine.
The season-word index
The same first line
The clearest echoes, side by side. Different labs, same opening move: an adjective of quiet, a time of day, a slow verb.
Dew drops dance on spider silk,
New day wakes in peace.
Whispers of wind through the trees —
A new day begins.
a single crane lifts slowly
into pale gray sky
A crow calls across still fields
The sun slowly wakes
Painting clouds in shades of red,
Night begins to fall.
Painting clouds in shades of pink,
Day turns into night.
The two Gemmas differ by one color and one closing line: siblings finishing each other's poem. Nemotron and MiMo share an opening line across labs. And "whispers of wind" drifts through three unrelated models like weather.
The one that left the garden
The empty spaces between
What we meant to say.
Thirty models wrote about the season. One wrote about the silence in a conversation. It is the only haiku in the set with people in it.