halfpipe
a snowboarder hangs
above the void
Author: Patricia J. Machmiller
Patricia J. Machmiller began writing haiku in 1975 with Kiyoshi and Kiyoko Tokutomi, founders of the Yuki Teikei Haiku Society. With Jerry Ball, and now Emiko Miyashita, she writes a regular column of haiku commentary, Dojin's Corner, for GEPPO, the newsletter of YTHS. Her book of haiku, Blush of Winter Moon, is published by Jacaranda Press. With Fay Aoyagi she has translated the haiku of Kiyoko Tokutomi, Kiyoko's Sky (Brooks Books, 2002). She has three books of haiga, Mountain Trail: Following the Master (www.lulu.com), The Sweet Reverence of Little Birds (www.lulu.com), and Wild Heart of One Bird Singing (www.lulu.com). The last two books were done in collaboration with the artist, Floy Zittin, and the calligrapher, Martha Dahlen. She is also a brush painter and printmaker; her artwork, including some haiga, can be seen at www.patriciajmachmiller.com.
every day
more like a crone
the carved pumpkin
three beach chairs
empty, but for one
first star
expanse of snow
unmarked the place my grandparents
crossed over
beachcombing
within the sand dollar
a lost city
yellow-leafed forest
beneath granite cliffs the creak
of saddles
the mathematics
of wings in flight—
butterfly
snow-capped mountain
she chose
a cloistered life
magnolia allée
the deep shade
of gentility
autumn evening—
the man at animal rescue
has a kind voice
banana split
the child in me
still a child
out of the blue
my son calls—
late spring
tulip magnolia–
the full-throated song
of a meadowlark
end of summer–
the hot dog vendor’s
last customer
snow moon —
the light from without
the light from within
the farmhouse
where he was born
ripening wheat
the blue pine’s
gnarled roots —
autumn loneliness
as if lost
it wanders through the canyon—
autumn wind
bare trees
the credits for the war movie
white on black
a man by his mailbox
reads a letter, then reads it again—
spring melancholy
rose garden
old friends
suddenly old
winter night —
late in the Scrabble game
I draw the Q