Read the excerpt from "Digging."Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.Under my window, a clean rasping soundWhen the spade sinks into gravelly ground:My father, digging. I look downTill his straining rump among the flowerbedsBends low, comes up twenty years awayStooping in rhythm through potato drillsWhere he was digging.Read the haiku by Bashō. A crowhas settled on a bare branch— autumn evening.How does the structure of these poems differ?

Then try StudyFetch, the AI-powered platform that can answer your questions and teach you more about it!