Issue 12.1 – tinywords

Intro 12.1

Welcome back to tinywords!

Issue 12.1 is about to begin.

We are delighted and honored to be working as the new editors of tinywords. Thank you all for the wonderfully

new coolness
the blueberry bushes
picked clean

afterthoughts
the cricket’s voice
in deep leaves

news of your death
when I open my eyes
green leaves

(previously published in the May/ June 2012 Sketchbook, 3rd place in the SSH Summer Kigo contest)

jacarandas
the bee still comes
to the fallen

Friday afternoon
butterfly rests
on the wind

damselfly wings
the slant of the sunlight
between leaves

across his face
the light that slowly moves
across his field

milk moon
the spring stampede
to green pasture

distant thunder
ants inside
a broken egg shell

twilight trees
birds go in and out
of song

(previously published in Acorn #26 — Spring 2011)

steam escaping
from the rice cooker
dreams of travel

drinks on the beach
the jiggle
in a pelican’s throat

dock sunset
the silvery pinks
of loose fish scales

the heavy worm
twisting between my fingers
sunlight on the hook

another sunset
another gnat
swims in the wine

dawn garden
a spotted fawn nibbles
at my resolve

evening sun
helping my dad
tend the cosmos

(For my dear Dad, Frederick Buckingham, 1914-2012)

batting cage nets
catching only
the dawn wind

daydreaming
on an old tire swing
grief gives way

       field
   out            grass

|   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   | 
THROUGH A FILM OF SOOT AND GREASE
|   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   | 
FACTORY WINDOWS
|   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |

homesick —
the same ingredients
tasting different

all that remains
of this childhood dream
white-washed bones
and a feathered wing
still flapping in the breeze

we needn’t talk —
the night whispers
tales long forgotten

owls hooting
somewhere in the darkness
I enter
the last digit
of her number

saying what i mean
the windsock
changes angle

my favorite color
doesn’t matter —
cherry blossoms

leaky roof
we argue about
politics

lengthening shadows
he talks to me
about downsizing

tying my shoes
lately the ground
seems so low

61st birthday–
making the plum jelly
a little sweeter

the stillness
as the honor guard
takes aim

back from war
the soldier cleans
his room

(originally published in DailyHaiku, 6/2/09)

antique ruby
his grandmother’s dreams
on my finger

fireworks display
the momentary glow
on her face

heat lightning the way your hand rests on mine

tree climbing
the smallest child
the highest up

The haiku “tree climbing” appeared in “The Saturday Evening

deep sea fishing
the boy’s bluster lost
in the whitecaps

mitten drawer —
mending the holes
left by her child

job offer–
champagne and fried fish
on the table
all the ingredients
we need to start fresh

going out of business
an extra belly rub
for half-priced Buddha

magnifying glass
an ant pauses
to examine me

sunny day —

telling time by my cat’s

choice of window

(originally published in bottle rockets, Vol 11, no. 2)

this slum with a moon in every puddle

(originally published in Presence, issue 43, January 2011)

The many notes
of the falling rain,
all in tune.

Photo by Adiel Gardner, Poem by Don Wentworth

The poem was previously published in “Past

under the half moon bridge
this upside-down world

heat wave
the blackened skins
of roasting chilies

beating sun
the butcherbird’s
open throat

young coconut
beside a wet machete
her breath

magpie
on the barbed wire fence
he swears he’ll change

queen-size bed
sometimes I wonder
where you go to

green field
    fallow field
a scarecrow's
    patchwork
life

laid off
the snowman
without a scarf

sub-zero
even the snow
slows down

slate sky . . .
deleting the dead
from my Christmas list

not enough time
to think things through —
black ice

Christmas Eve
the strip club parking lot
covered with snow

(originally published in Mayfly, Winter 2010)

New Year’s snowstorm
I unwrap
the calendar