Welcome to Issue 18.2
Congratulations to our writing prompt winners — Helen Buckingham, Bill Gottlieb, and Arlene Teck — whose poems appear below.
Category: Issue 18.2
a glimpse of deeper seas tidepool
bougainvillea blossoms
following the wind
to the beach
evening cool
the beachcomber’s
cloudy eyes
the big questions
remain unanswered
i deadhead the petunias
kudzu
those things
we neglect
mosquitoes
their own version
of birdsong
old songs
I gently scoop a cricket
from the tub
early autumn
the deepening taste
of the well water
sweet melon
a wasp and I
have seconds
Indian summer
the cat and I chasing
the same fly
shallow pond
a muskrat swims
through the sun
first raindrop
on the lake
the monk’s prayer gong
I saunter
deep in the labyrinth
the stillness of autumn
straight talk
we come to a fork
in the road
over red hills
the colored rings of sunrise
this balance
of moving forward
and letting go
(Red Hills, Lake George, 1927, Georgia O’Keeffe)
her hand
on my wrist
moth dust
hospice
the head-tilt
of a tulip
bus stop languages
good-bye
we all understand
first steps
a toddler trips over
a fallen leaf
fall leaves cover the base path home
October dusk
the quiver
in a robin’s tail
crimson rosellas –
how many years since
I whistled?
evening clouds
in no hurry
this baseball game
among the raindrops
sharp nods
of the pansies
the shell
of a farmer’s stand
October rain
rolling hills . . .
autumn settles differently
on each one
bone density …
the broken stems
of sunflowers
downsizing
sunflowers blooming
in a bronze vase
no more politics
dead-heading
the day-lilies
morning fishing
we circle around
the same subjects
silence
the white space
around your poem
amid the stones
of the soldiers' cemetery
edelweiss
(second prize 21st Mainichi Haiku Contest
International Section)
civil war cemetery
the flower holders
empty
a minaret
sharpened by moonlight
distant gunshots
fish tank
the four corners
of the world
as I plan my day
an ant travels the globe
of the peony bud
more questions than answers driftwood
beachcombing the detritus of us
late autumn boiling the color from frozen carrots
black friday
two crows tear
at a plastic bag
bills due–
in my dream
the endless stairs
all-night laundromat
my pyjamas toss and turn
in the dryer
long nights
of absinthe drinking
what’s left of the moon
daymoon
a bullfrog’s
big gulp
pizza night
teaching the grandkids
card tricks
puberty
we take turns touching
the electric fence
wedding vows
a watermark
on the hardwood floor
feathers caught
in the chain link fence
another miscarriage
Check out this haibun by Bob Lucky.
forest fire smoke
dominates the sky —
the lost
dominion
of birds
news of a poet’s passing birdsong
late autumn
mother’s walker
now mine
orchids
on her tombstone
my shadow
water and stone
how we shape
each other
day break —
my dog wakes up
shaking off yesterday
cat collar
the little bell
rusted silent
morning cool
the street piano’s
silence
the ants
all fall in line
city life
winter night
crickets
on the sound machine
night without sleep
a boat slips
its moorings
bare-root plum
the faith it takes
to plant a tree
filling the field’s expanse
with its slenderness . . . .
tufted blue gamma grass
separating
night and day
comma moon
fireworks –
bare branches
fracture the moon
New Year’s dawn…
cranberries
for the mistle thrush
new year’s day regifting my mother’s meds
a grid of white squares
on the calendar
doing life
editing a line
the cigarette coal's
precarious length
paging through
another evening
deep winter
all the trappings
of a privileged upbringing
hothouse tomato
winter storm
the winding heap
of apple peel
scrolling through old friends accomplishments winter stars
the ins and outs
of a social network
–ant colony
so real
these plastic flowers-
my butterfly mind
winter’s end
an old man’s cough
in the crow’s caw
the line
to his IV drip
morning glories
once a school…
tulips line
the hospice drive
(Previously appeared in The Betty Drevniok Award, Honorable Mention, 2018)
eraser dust
the touch and go
of perfection
winter moon
dad’s watch
in my sock drawer
soft rain
on mountain wildflowers —
my mother’s voice
monsoons begin with each day's rains
the hills turn greener greener
Originally appeared in beyond the horizon beyond (Vishwakarma Publications 2017)
summer day
the fisherman
catches a wave
midsummer lull
the ants
regroup
sultry night
slack spun into the line
of spider’s silk
late summer
what the cicadas insist
I know
change of trains
a busker hurries through
the minute waltz
moon shadow where the singer takes a breath
daffodil shoots
parts of us emerge
from hibernation
(Golden Haiku Competition, 2018, Golden Triangle BID, Washington, D.C.)
full moon
we leave our clothes
on the cabin floor
snowed in
deep white drifts
quilt the night
Valentine’s Day
a child sounds out
candy hearts
every love story
ending the same –
petrichor